<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>White Rose by Moonalight</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25824505">White Rose</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonalight/pseuds/Moonalight'>Moonalight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Guertena's Keeper [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ib (Video Game), Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood and Gore, Custom AU, Death, Fluff, OOC, Panic Attacks, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:21:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,266</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25824505</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonalight/pseuds/Moonalight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Years ago, Saguru found himself in a gallery. It was not an ordinary gallery, and he was not alone. He found great friends and bitter enemies. He found a second home, a second mission. To collect all the lost works of Guertana. The last thing he expected was for one of the lost pieces to become KID's target. And with the international thief's luck, it just had to be one of the most dangerous and unpredictable missing pieces. Can Saguru save the heist attendees from the danger they have been unknowingly placed in? Can he stop anymore lives from being claimed by the murderous painting? And most of all, can he protect his rose?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Garry/Ib (Ib), Hakuba Saguru/Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Guertena's Keeper [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873792</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Fury's Shock</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first time writing a fanfic so I apologize if it's a little rough. Reviews, suggestions, and anything else is appreciated! Also, for anyone against big age difference relationships, I do ship Ib and Gary. Just a heads up. Also if you're homophobic, you don't have to read the story, nobody's forcing you stay. </p><p>But yeah, in this AU Saguru was in the gallery with Ib and Gary. Mary got a happy ending because her friends promised to keep visiting her, and the gallery became a much nicer place. Gary moved onto an art college, Ib became an artist herself, and Saguru took over Guertana's gallery, trying to piece together all the unknown artist's works that had been lost over the years. All of this will be explained in more depth going forward, and I can't wait!</p><p>Another little side note (sorry) but I'm not a big Aoko Nakamori fan. I honestly find her somewhat abusive so if she's written in a way you hate, I apologize.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
It was a winding maze of halls. Walls adorned by colorful paintings and platforms displaying imaginative sculptures. Once upon a time, it had been a place of love and care. Then, after a terrible choice by its creator, it became a place of fear and longing. Longing to be real, to have form, to be free as they once were allowed to be. So many lives had been lost within those winding corridors. Innocent guests unknowing of what they were getting into by possessing the cursed art pieces. Owners of the collection met with a terrible fate, time and time again. The fate of stripped petals.</p><p>      And then three new guests were invited in by the lonely girl. The master of the broken world, Mary, of the yellow rose. These guests were different from others that were brought before. These guests changed things. Gary, of the blue rose, Ib, of the red rose, and Saguru, of the white rose.</p><p>      Through the terrible things they endured in that world, a strong, unbreakable bond was made. Gary, the eldest of the three at eighteen became their caretaker and an elder brother figure. Ib, the youngest at nine became the quiet younger sister that secretly held them together through it all. Saguru, in between at twelve remained the level head and brains of the operation. Together they worked to return to their own world, outside of the dark gallery. In their mission, they also changed everything...<br/>
******<br/>
Saguru was rarely late. He was rarely incorrect in timing no matter the circumstances. Time was a construct he understood, something that assured him, something that kept him grounded in the world he was in. There were three things he reliably knew threw off his punctuality and planning. Crime, Kuroba Kaito, and his mother.</p><p>       This time his lateness could be blamed on the last unpredictability. His mother had been quite firm in her instance he stayed, ‘a little longer and keep your lonely mother company.' He’d given in, and, just as he knew would happen, he’d missed his flight for the day. The only other flight available had been for late evening. It was the only way for him to make it back to Japan on time for the heist Nakamori-san had been kind enough to inform him of. This had resulted in an eleven hour flight; from eight at night to seven in the morning.</p><p>	Despite his experience in long flights he was not someone that could comfortably sleep on a plane. And so, that is how he found himself, walking as fast as he could through his high school halls trying to reach his class before the first bell. Dark bags had made themselves at home under his eyes, and his hastily unpacked uniform was a rumpled mess. </p><p>	The saddest part was that this was hardly an unusual appearance for him to sport around his classmates. It made his proprietary lessons itch at the back of his mind, screaming he should do something about his out-of-sorts hair and exhausted posture. After long nights spent working cases, or watching Doctor Who marathons, this was his natural appearance. His classmates had gotten used to his switch from prince to exhausted detective and back again, it had only taken them a couple months.</p><p>	That was probably why nobody gave him any overly startled looks when he rattled the sliding door open, just concern and sympathy. Baaya had called his teacher to notify her of the chance he would be late so she simply nodded in acknowledgment of his presence before going back to sorting her papers for class. A few inquisitive murmurs followed him to his seat at the back of the room which he waved off tiredly.</p><p>        His sleep muddled brain was working at a quarter of its usual efficiency. Picking up words and sentences from the conversations around him but unable to put any of them together. The loudest, and therefore easiest thing to focus on, in the classroom was his two seat neighbors. Kuroba Kaito and Nakamori Aoko. As far as he could tell it was another one of their mundane arguments over the fact that Kuroba was a KID fan and Nakamori’s father was in charge of catching the thief. </p><p>	He’d heard different versions of this argument nearly everyday during his time in Japan. At this point he could probably join in, guessing every word they would say, just to show how little their discourse changed anything. He wouldn’t though. He was too tired for that. Maybe another day. </p><p>	Just as he was about to place his heavy book bag on his desk though, something about their argument changed.</p><p>       “How do you know it’s even KID this time?” Nakamori-chan suddenly flipped the script, palms slamming into her desk as she towered over her cowering childhood friend, “My dad told me! He said that it’s unusual for KID to even target paintings, let alone ones from such unknown artists! For all you know, it could be some wannabe fan!”</p><p>	“Oh?” Kuroba-kun responded in kind. His tone taking on that playful and sharp lilt that signaled he was about to cause a catastrophe. Already students around them were fleeing to the edges of the classroom in preparation for the hell their resident trickster was planning to unleash. “Of course you would think that, Ahoko! I mean, if it really is a copy-cat then your father might actually have a chance of catching him!”</p><p>        The poor girl. The poor boy. Nakamori-chan was turning red in anger, fingers twitching as they ached for the comfortable feeling of a mop handle wrapped in them. Due to a quite hard insistence on Saguru’s part, however, mops, or weapons of any kind, were banned in fights now. He hardly wanted to see one of his classmates charged with accidental homicide, and he was glad they had followed his rule even while he’d been away. Even without a weapon though, she was a dangerous girl to anger. </p><p>	This time, she turned her fury to something other than violence. Words. Words that locked every muscle in Saguru’s body. “Baaaaaaakaito!” She screeched, gripping her desk edge so hard it almost seemed like she could splinter the word if she wanted to. Kuroba-kun leaned away, eyes widening in fear as she raged like a bat out of hell.</p><p>        “You’re an idiot! My dad is going to catch the thief, even if it is an imposter! The target doesn’t matter, the thief doesn’t matter, the location doesn’t matter!” Her words stretched every syllable, everyone else in the classroom scrambling away in terror. “He’s great at his job and don’t you dare say otherwise! You’ll see! He’s going to protect this Guertana’s work no matter what!”</p><p>THUD.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Blue Rose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I think I might have found one of the missing works.” The clattering of many things hitting the floor followed his announcement. Cursing then followed that. “Gary?” Saguru asked, frowning worriedly into  the phone as the commotion continued.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
Nakamori-chan was distracted from her rage by the loud thud of Saguru’s bag hitting the floor. The sudden silence coming from the brunette’s corner meant every single set of eyes in the classroom was fixed on the wide-eyed detective. They could see the white encircling his blue irises, irises that were fixed on the messy haired girl now fidgeting uncertainly under his shocked gaze. </p><p>	“Hakuba-kun?” She asked, voice wavering nervously as she wrung her hands together, glancing to her partner in arguing, “Are you okay?”</p><p>	Saguru’s mind was admittedly slow today. The less than adequate amount of sleep he’d been getting in the last week he’d been in England was a big contributor to this. The cases he’d consulted on were another. But he could've sworn she had said...</p><p>	“Nakamori-chan,” he started, voice strained as he struggled to remain in control of his emotions, “Please repeat that sentence if you would?” </p><p>	Nobody else dared speak. Kuroba-kun’s own blue eyes were narrowly scanning Saguru, an intensity that came not only from suspicion, but also worry as he now knew. Aoko blinked twice at his request, tilting her head in confusion as she did as he asked.</p><p>	“Are you okay?” </p><p>	“Not that sentence,” he corrected, barely keeping his patience, his hands clenching at his sides, “The last one of your argument with Kuroba-kun.”</p><p>	“Oh,” her face colored slightly at the mistake but she humored him nonetheless, “My dad’s going to protect Guertena’s painting no matter what?”</p><p>	He hadn’t misheard. Saguru’s hand slipped into his pocket, fingers running roughly over the engraved metal of his pocket watch as he tried to sort through his thoughts. Adrenaline began to pump through his veins, his heartbeat speeding up and giving him a little help in waking up. Guertena. One of Guertena’s paintings. </p><p>	He bent down quickly, picking up his book bag without focusing too much on the action itself. He had important matters to deal with before the heist that night. “Hakuba-kun?” His teacher called out to him worriedly as he slid open the door he had just entered through, “Class is starting?” </p><p>	Indeed it was. The clock above her head read 8:03:37. Three minutes and thirty-seven seconds into the first period. Which meant the bell had gone off at some point during the confrontation of his classmates. Time was good. Time meant he wasn’t there.</p><p>“Forgive me sensei,” he twisted, bowing shortly to her as he readjusted the bag over his shoulder, “Something of extreme importance has come up. I’ll be absent for the duration of the day. Please carry on without me.”<br/>
She didn’t get a word in edgewise as the class erupted in quiet speculation and the door slammed shut behind him. The school halls were empty now that the bell had rung. Behind closed doors the voices of teachers taking attendance and beginning their lessons were muffled. Saguru was alone in a narrow hall, shadows clinging to every corner. Before this could cause him any panic he was reaching into his frustratingly heavy bag and pulling out his phone.</p><p>Pressing the power button awoke the screen. A picture of him, Aoko, Kaito, and Akako stared back at him. Ice cream was in each of their hands, but also on their hands, faces, and clothes. That day had been interesting and it helped to have something to focus on as he drew closer to the shoe lockers. </p><p>	His goal was something other than comfort though. Dismissing the comforting lock screen he instead opened his contacts list. Most of his recent calls were to the aforementioned trio of classmates due to the week he’d spent away in England. But sprinkled among those were two other common names. He pressed down lightly on one as he changed shoes, lifting the screen to his ear so he could listen to it rang.</p><p>	“...Hello?” The soft voice of a man speaking english filtered through the speaker, kind and quietly happy in tone.</p><p>	“Hello, I’m sorry if I’m disturbing your work,” Saguru apologized, switching to english as well and guiltily wincing as he recognized his rudeness. There was no reprimand from his partner however, only an amused laugh and reassurance.</p><p>	“You could never, Saguru. I am always available for one of mine,” he promised, the familiar rattling of paint brushes on the other end confirming that, yes, Saguru had called while he was working. Not that it would ever upset him.</p><p>	“Getting straight to the point then,” Saguru sighed, raising a free hand to shield from the brightness of the outdoors. The courtyard of Ekoda High seemed almost abandoned with all the students inside. He knew he wasn’t alone though. He could feel eyes on him, certainly from some concerned classmates a floor above as he walked toward the school gate.</p><p>	“I think I might have found one of the missing works.” The clattering of many things hitting the floor followed his announcement. Cursing then followed that. “Garry?” Saguru asked, frowning worriedly into  the phone as the commotion continued.</p><p>	“I’m fine!” He promised loudly, voice breaking with embarrassment noticeable even through the phone connection. More clattering and a few softer curses followed before accompanying a question, “Are you sure?”</p><p>	“No,” the anticlimanticness of his answer seemed to startle Garry, seeing as how the movement stopped all at once. “Honestly I just heard that KID’s heist target tonight is apparently a painting by Guertana.”</p><p>He drawled the name, frustration that was always brought about whenever he thought of the lesser known artist painted his voice. The more Saguru learned about the man, the more he questioned him. One thing he could never forgive Guertana for doing was selling off his works, knowing full well that they weren’t simple pieces. They were all living, life he had given, and he’d known what they were becoming. Instead of taking responsibility or trying to right his wrong, he had given them away. Garry buried some of Saguru’s animosity as his next question registered.<br/>
“Do you know what piece it is?” </p><p>“Not yet,” Saguru sighed, running a hand through his messy blonde locks. He really didn’t know much of anything and it was eating at him, “I need to call Mr. Nakamori to get the details. If I can get anything useful out of him, I’ll ask her for some extra information...”</p><p>He trailed off, looking up at the sky blearily and stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. His hands switched the location of the phone so he could reach into his pocket once more. Bare fingertips brushed gently over biting metal, a reminder of time and order he needed right now. </p><p>“Saguru,” Garry’s voice was soft again, barely more than a hum. The sound of something soft and cushiony being pushed down under a body told Saguru that the college boy was now sitting on that ridiculous red sofa in his studio. Just two days ago he had been there with him. At their side had been another, the last piece of their family, Ib.</p><p>“What’s Ib doing today,” Saguru asked, taking a break from the more serious topic to think about his younger ‘sister’. The startled spluttering and half sentences that answered brought a tired smile to his face. His older ‘brother’ still wasn’t completely used to Saguru’s teasing. A new development that had been brought about by a certain messy haired brunette with blue eyes he’d seen just moments before.</p><p>Garry finally seemed to gather enough breath to manage, “She’s having dinner with her parents...” His lungs were breathless and it made Saguru laugh. Garry always got so depressed when the two of them were gone. Coming to Japan had been a hard decision but in the end, nothing had truly changed. The only difference for their family was that now they saw each other through a screen more often.</p><p>“She’ll be home soon,” Saguru promised, realizing too late he had dug his own grave as Garry began muttering.</p><p>“Hold on...Saguru, isn't it time for school there? Where are you right now?”</p><p>Despite him not being here to see it, Saguru smiled sheepishly in response to Garry’s accusatory tone and the answer he was about to give, “I'm in Japan.”</p><p>More spluttering and demands but Saguru talked over him quickly to finish up the call before he was interrogated, “Anyway, if I find out anything I’ll call you Garry. Don’t forget to tell Ib what’s going on, she’ll get mad if you keep it from her. Oh, and, thanks for the lemon candies. I know it was you who hid them in my bag! Bye.”</p><p>	“Sagu-” He didn’t finish Saguru’s name before the line went dead.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yes! So I am a fan of the HC that Saguru has an attachment to his watch and time. In this case I figured it would actually be because of the Fabricated World. In the game it actually seems like Gary and Ib are stuck in there for a long time, but when they get out almost no time has passed. This would lead Saguru to have an attachment to keeping track of time.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Another Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I wouldn’t say that exactly,” his words were halting like he couldn’t believe what he was about to say, “I think he’s afraid of the painting.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>Fortunately, Baaya was understanding of why Saguru decided to ditch school. Initially she had been worried about him needing to be picked up on the side of the road, but once he explained it wasn’t because of a dangerous case, a tragedy at school, or even him feeling ill, she was quick to calm down and drive him home.</p><p>	Saguru had missed her. She had remained in Japan while he visited his family in England, staying with her sister for the week. As his honorary grandmother, she was also a member of his tangled family web. Always there to help him in anyway she could, he could never express his gratefulness enough. Their reunion had been a rush seeing as he only had had an hour after his flight landed to get ready and get to school. </p><p>	And as much as he wanted to spend this time in the back seat of the car catching up, he had work to do which she understood. Another contact, one that he hardly ever used, came into play, nearly ringing out before someone picked up on the other side.</p><p>	“Hakuba-kun,” Nakamori-san’s gruff greeting sounded, “This had better be about the heist; we’re finalizing the security details at the art gallery and the owner isn’t really helping.”</p><p>	“Hello, Nakamori-san,” Saguru greeted him properly, noting Baaya’s nod of approval in the front seat, “Yes, this is about the heist. Specifically the target.”</p><p>	“The painting?” He confirmed, footsteps and shouting in the background of the gallery, “I don’t think it’s anything special, really. The owner is more suspicious.” </p><p>	His fixation on the owner would’ve made anyone else irritated. Given Saguru’s state of mind, it almost made him as well. But if there was one thing that he had learned about the detective in charge of the task force; it was that he was there because he was good at his job. </p><p>	“How so?” Saguru prompted, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he pulled a pad of paper from his bag, clicking his pen to prepare to write.</p><p>	“Do you remember the report for the ‘Ryoma’s Treasures’ heist?” Saguru did. He hadn’t been able to attend due to being in England at the time, but it had cemented a few theories he had been bouncing around back then. KID had revealed a counterfeiting ring and the crooked curators had been arrested thanks to his interference. Considering that...</p><p>“You think the owner of the gallery may be involved in something illegal?” His pen scratched over the paper, already thinking over the possibilities. Only, he stopped at Nakamori-san’s denial.</p><p>“I wouldn’t say that exactly,” his words were halting like he couldn’t believe what he was about to say, “I think he’s afraid of the painting.” </p><p>Saguru’s grip on the pen grew painful, eyes narrowing dangerously. Baaya was looking back at him worriedly through the rearview mirror but he ignored her. If the owner was afraid, then this didn’t bode well at all.</p><p>“I mean,” Nakamori-san backtracked in his silence, trying to explain properly to the consulting detective, “He’s trying to keep as many members of the task-force out of the display room as possible. He insists there only be a select few people near the painting, there be no traps for KID, and that we don’t secure the target in any way. It’s almost like he wants it to be stolen.”</p><p>“But why do you think he’s afraid of it?” Saguru reiterated. Facts. Facts he could deal with. If this turned out to be another one like the ‘Pyre’ piece he’d found in Salem... He shuddered.</p><p>	“It’s the way he acts,” the senior detective was just as comfortable with facts as him, and as he continued that’s what he went with, “Before I was on the task force, I would see it in domestic abuse cases, as odd as that is. He can’t look directly at the painting, he can’t approach it without...waiting for something, and he flinches whenever anyone mentions it or gets too close. It’s like he’s waiting for the oil paint to wash out and drown him.”</p><p>	Dangerous then. Saguru already had a feeling this was going to turn out badly. He didn’t want anyone to get hurt, so, “Nakamori-keibu,” he dropped his voice into a respectful deference; the way he did whenever he seriously needed the senior man to listen to him, and the task force commander knew it, “Please just listen to the owner. And if you would, please send me a picture of the painting as well as any information you can on it. Please.”</p><p>	Shocked silence greeted his requests. Shocked silence filled the car. Baaya was looking back at him with a startled expression, thankfully stopped at a red light otherwise they would be at risk for an accident. Saguru understood both his seniors’ surprise. He rarely was so polite in asking for things. ‘Please’ was a word he didn’t use unless something serious was going on. He’d used it a lot today. Something told him that things were about to go very bad.</p><p>	“Yeah,” Nakamori-san sounded choked, like he’d swallowed his cigarette somehow. His words were concerned when he dropped his voice, whispering into the phone hesitantly, “Hakuba-kun...what’s going on? Are you okay?”</p><p>	“Yes, Nakamori-keibu,” he nodded, glancing out the window to see the city view thinning out to the country; they were almost home, “Now I need to go. Send anything you get to my phone or my computer. Thank you.” The final polite deference was tacked on as an afterthought, and for the second time that day, he killed the line with someone saying his name.</p><p>	“Haku-!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Past Memories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>‘Reaper’s Alley’.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
Baaya was worried. Saguru could tell, but there wasn’t anything he could do to assure her. He didn’t even know what the situation was just yet. To make things harder, he’d never told her about Guertena or what happened four years before in the small art gallery. She suspected...something, of course. She’d been the one to bring him there after all.</p><p>	A twelve year old boy that abhorred human connections and was just starting to find his footing around crime scenes walked into a gallery alone, disappeared for half an hour by her time, and reappeared with an older boy, younger girl, and unbreakable ties. It had brought many questions and both of his new adopted family members had to be vetted to ensure they weren’t any sort of trouble, but it was still strange to anyone who knew him.</p><p>	What they didn’t know was that he hadn’t been gone for half an hour. He had been gone for days. Trapped in a world of oil paints and mannequins, set on torturing him however they could because they were lonely. Being hunted by a girl who wanted to take his place in the real world, being hurt time and time again, and having his life tied to the fate of a small, fragile flower whose only defense was himself. </p><p>	Situations like that build bonds. How could he not come to care and want to help the two people that had been there for him? That had endured what he had? Sure, in the end things were alright. They had brought a kinder life back to the gallery, made friends with the lonely girl, and learned many lessons from those dark halls.</p><p>	But still, even if they had forgiven, moved on, and were grateful to some degree for what happened; the misguided torture still affected them in ways they tried to ignore.</p><p>	The biggest change had likely been for Saguru. Gary was only more deeply inspired to pursue his art path into college, while Ib took it upon herself to start on that path. Saguru had split his path. Upon learning others had died there, been lost and forgotten, he had become determined to use his ties as a detective to prevent more pain; becoming something of a supernatural detective. On the side, the art world changed him. It was only a hobby to him, not a job like Gary and Ib had, but he did learn how to translate the world into drawings. And then there was the big one.</p><p>	Collecting the missing works of Guertena. A painter who had done many, many, many works of art, only to sell them all off shortly before his death. Each piece he brought together again made the gallery brighter, and Saguru wanted to return them all. Though sometimes, like with this potential next piece, the abandoned works would make that goal difficult.</p><p>	The piece for tonight's heist. Nakamori-san had done as he requested, sending what information he had on the painting to his computer in his home study. That was where Saguru now sat, in his large, soft red office chair before a screen with all that he needed. The biggest thing, out of it all, was the picture. </p><p>In an old wooden frame, many years old, was a textured canvas. Mixtures of red and black were smeared across it strategically. Other colors only blended to those main ones, hardly worth a glance as you look at the picture being depicted. A dark alleyway, stained red, and a man in black approaching. It was like he was stalking toward the person looking upon the painting, a knife in one hand and a coaxing smile stretched across his face.</p><p>‘Reaper’s Alley’. </p><p>The name of the painting stared back at Saguru. He didn’t even need to double check the information listed below to recognize it as one Guertena Weiss’ works. One of his newer works. One of his deadlier works, as all of his paintings became as he lost more and more of his mind. This was going to be worse than he thought.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry if this was short, I just segment the chapters into whatever feels right so some might be short, long, or really short if it's just an in between filler.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Yellow Rose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A serial killer painting then. Brilliant.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Information on the painting was sparse. Nakamori-san had noted that the owner wasn’t willing to divulge much, they had had to talk to one of the few workers there to get anything useful. </p><p>	Useful being; it was called Reaper’s Alley, was painted by a fairly forgotten artist named Guertena Weiss, and that the current owner had bought it from a man in Germany. Apparently after he introduced the painting into his gallery, less people started to come. The ones that did often were scared off by strange happenings, and many of the workers had resigned pretty quickly. All of this only reaffirmed Nakamori-san’s theory that the owner wanted KID to take the painting. He wanted it gone and KID was going to make sure that happened so long as the task force didn’t stop him. </p><p>	Saguru knew something about the painting that none of them did though. It was alive. And just from the name and terrifying image, he had no doubt it was a dangerous one. Experience told him that people had likely already lost their lives to the ‘Reaper’, and if they weren’t careful tonight, more still could.</p><p>	He stood from his soft chair, abandoning the computer to trek down the hall. He could hear Baaya in the kitchen as he made his way down the stairs. Pots clinking and clanking as water bubbled. Brunch no doubt. But first, he had someone important to speak with.</p><p>	His steps took him down the first floor hall, transitioning between wings of the house until he reached a pair of tall, deep oak, twin doors. Rose engravings adorned the finish, names carved into the stalks that made him smile softly. He took the cool metal knob in hand and twisted, doors swinging open to reveal the large room beyond.</p><p>	The left wall had windows ceiling to floor; colored glass panes of roses that painted the room with every color imaginable. More half walls were scattered aesthetically about the room, paintings hanging from every surface while the floor had sections roped off with ornate sculptures filling the space.</p><p>	Saguru reached to his right, flipping up the light switches to finish lighting up the indoor gallery. His Guertena collection. </p><p>	Abandoning his school jacket by the door and leaving him in a soft white button up, he purposefully strolled through the aisles. Every time he passed one of the works he nodded respectfully to them. Life began to flow through the room, paintings coming alive with movement and greetings, sculptures and mannequins sending waves his way, and the jukebox on the back wall starting up itself to fill the silence between with sweet music. </p><p>	Saguru’s target was at the back of the gallery. A golden frame surrounded by vines and thorns and yellow petals. Inside the frame a smiling little girl watched him approach. Eye’s blue as the sky and hair gold as the sun. Her green dress was spread out around her as she kneeled on the ground beyond his world. </p><p>	Habitually, Saguru reached into his pocket to feel the metal inside as a reminder. This world, not theirs. </p><p>	“Mary,” he greeted her with no small smile, happy to see his other younger ‘sister’ again, “I’m back.”</p><p>	“Welcome back, Saguru,” she smiled back in response, tilting her head in question, “How was England? How were Ib and Gary?”</p><p>	“They’re both fine,” he told her, taking a seat on the ground in front of her painting, looking up to speak with her, “They miss you. Next month they want to fly here to see everyone.”</p><p>	Excited murmurs filled the room around them, but Saguru was focused solely on Mary’s reaction. A big, excited gasp and watery smile. Eyes brightening beyond measure at the idea of seeing them again. It had been a couple months. Often he would bring his laptop into the gallery to video chat with Ib and Garry; that way the other works would get to see and speak to them again.</p><p>Her reaction was worth it and Saguru found himself smiling wide as he listened to her ramble on happily about plans for that day. How she was going to set up a picnic for them in her world and how they would spend the whole day there together.</p><p>He felt bad for ruining her excitement so he let her continue on for a few minutes. When she started talking about pallet knives, he cut in politely yet cautiously. “Mary?”</p><p>“Oh, sorry,” she cleared her throat, painty skin turning somewhat flushed at his interruption, “Yes?”</p><p>“I’ve found another missing work.” The other works were quick to fall silent at this, slipping off to give the two of them privacy. They understood that sometimes it wasn’t always good news involving new works. They waited until the gallery was quiet, only the two of them aware of words exchanged to continue.</p><p>	“It’s called ‘Reaper’s Alley’.” Saguru wasted no preamble in building it up, watching dishearteningly as Mary’s face fell at the name he gave, “That bad?”</p><p>“Yes,” she sighed, some of her childish personality falling away as she took on an almost sad look, “It was one of Father’s last works...It was...”</p><p>“Dangerous,” Saguru finished for her, finally having confirmation of the feeling he’d had all morning, “Is there any chance of reasoning with it?”</p><p>“No.” She was so assured of that. Even with ‘Pyre’ she had wanted him to try despite there being almost no hope. Just how bad was this murderous painting? “The reaper was...crazy. He lost it long before anyone else. He took people, not because he wanted them  to be friends, but because he wanted to see how they looked cut up...”</p><p>A serial killer painting then. Brilliant. </p><p>“Any ideas on how to handle him then?” Saguru couldn’t let people attend the heist tonight if there was a chance of a massacre, but he also didn’t have the power to cancel it.</p><p>“Avoid him?” Mary suggested quietly after a moment, tone desperate as she looked up at him, “Forget about him?”</p><p>“I can’t,” he pleaded with her, desperate himself, “Tonight, a lot of people I care about are going to be near him. Give me something, anything, please!”</p><p>“...burn him?” A new voice joined in, causing Saguru to twist around so he could see the auburn haired beauty behind him. </p><p>“Koizumi-chan,” he said in surprise, getting to his feet quickly to greet the visiting witch, “What are you doing here?”</p><p>	“After that show you put on in class this morning, the whole place was abuzz,” she huffed, placing a hand over her hip as she raised one of her perfect eyebrows in judgement, “I thought it’d be better to warn you sooner rather than later.”</p><p>	“Warn me? About what?”</p><p>	“Besides your dear friends being worried about you?” She asked, lips turning up in amusement as she left him scrambling with the word ‘friends’, “How about the fact you’re going to have a lot of company at tonight’s heist?”</p><p>	“Who?” Saguru’s tone turned serious, pushing back the lost feeling of being called a friend to his classmates. He wasn’t unused to uninvited guests at heists. Crows in the shadows tended to be a common theme, and wouldn’t that be just great considering all the trouble he was already dealing with. That, however, wasn’t what she said.</p><p>“How about a small detective, a hotheaded detective, and their respected companions?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Red Witch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Allow me to make this easy for you, my dear,” Koizumi-chan cut across his distant thoughts, smiling teasingly in a way that made heat creep up Saguru’s neck, “Just call me Akako-chan, and yes, I consider you a friend.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
“Seriously?” Saguru tensed even more at her news. This was not ideal. The last thing he needed was more people to protect from a killer they weren’t even aware of. And why did it have to be them?</p><p>	“Perhaps they could help?” The red eyed young woman suggested, watching the struggling detective with a tight frown.</p><p>	“Help?” Saguru repeated, running an agitated hand through his hair again, making more of a mess of his blonde curls, “Edogawa-san is a child, Hattori-san is unpredictable in the best of best case scenarios, and by ‘respected companions’ I suppose you mean Mouri-san, Sonoko-chan, and Kazuha-san? Sonoko-chan goes moony-eyed over KID, and the other two are absolutely petrified by the supernatural!” </p><p>	He was overreacting. Yes, he was aware. But he had had barely any sleep in a week, sporadic meals, been in Japan again for just over two hours, and now was trying to stop a whole heist crowd from being butchered by a demented and sadistic work of art. So sue him!</p><p>	“Saguru,” Mary’s quiet voice called his name from behind him. He turned slowly to find her watching him with leaking eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks as she watched her older brother panic. Seeing her tears stole his breath away. Saguru’s hand slipped into his pocket quickly, skin biting so hard into the metal of his pocket watch that it was close to bleeding. The pain helped him focus and he took a deep breath before giving her his best ‘prince’ smile.</p><p>	“Sorry little sister,” he apologized, switching into english for her again, glad not for the first time that most of the works only spoke that one language, english. She had no clue what he’d been saying, just that he’d been upset, “I let my emotions get the better of me. I promise I’ll be careful tonight, okay? Koizumi-chan and I need to go discuss a few things now. Will you be okay?”</p><p>	The way she worked to bury her tears hurt, but Saguru gave her his most encouraging smile which was rewarded with a forced one of her own, “Yeah. Okay, be careful, big brother.”</p><p>	He nodded one last time before turning away. His gorgeous classmate followed close behind him as he crossed the room for a second time. Some of the works returned to their places, calling out farewells which he returned as expressively as he could. Collecting his jacket at the door, he made sure not to turn out the lights. It was a ritual of his whenever he went out to do something potentially dangerous. After the risk was neutralized and all was well, he would return to turn off the light.</p><p>	The double doors shut with a ‘bang’ that echoed around the hall. Saguru could feel her eyes watching him as he led her back toward the kitchen where Baaya was no doubt waiting to serve him brunch. Hopefully she had enough to spare for his classmate. It wouldn’t do to let her go hungry after coming to warn him of trouble.</p><p>“Brunch?” He offered her quietly, still coming down from his bout of panic. His hand still moved over his watch though softer now. There was no bite, no pain, just cool metal that helped him collect his thoughts as they entered the dining hall outside the kitchen. Noise could still be heard from the doorway leading to where Baaya was working, so he didn’t think it undue to pull out one of the kitchen chairs for his surprise guest.</p><p>	“Yes, thank you,” she purred, pulling her skirt under her as she sat down. With years of practice Saguru was able to easily push the chair back in for her and take his own seat on the corner beside her. The dining table was ridiculously long considering he never really had guests over. He’d thought it only right to give her the head seat, however, he did still owe her for Salem to be honest.</p><p>	“I’m not actually sure what she is making, though tea and crumpets are assured,” Saguru admitted with a slight shrug, laying his jacket over the back of the chair beside him. Koizumi-chan just chuckled lightly at his mix of gentlemanly and teenage behavior, something she always claimed to find charming about him. It brought his mind back to her mention of ‘friends’. </p><p>	Sure, he had been half living in Japan for nearly a year now and he’d definitely gotten closer to some of his classmates, but none of them had ever expressly called him ‘friend’. Isn’t that how it worked? Or were you just supposed to know? </p><p>	“Allow me to make this easy for you, my dear,” Koizumi-chan cut across his distant thoughts, smiling teasingly in a way that made heat creep up Saguru’s neck, “Just call me Akako-chan, and yes, I consider you a friend.”</p><p>	“I wasn’t-?”</p><p>	“Speaking out loud?” She finished for him, cackling in amusement at his confusion and embarrassment, “No.”</p><p>	“Then did you-?”</p><p>	“Read your mind?” She did it again! Saguru only nodded mutely, watching her with a curious sparkle to his blue eyes. Witches didn’t go around listing off their abilities and even after meeting several different covens, he still didn’t have a good handle on them. A second bout of cackling only brought him more embarrassment.</p><p>	“No, you read like a book when you’re this tired, Saguru-kun.” His head ducked down as he suddenly found the wood grain of the table really interesting. Outside of his London family and Baaya, nobody ever called him by his first name. He was sure he could feel his ears aflame and absentmindedly reached up to check she hadn’t actually done such a thing.</p><p>	“Oh,” the startled voice of his caretaker made him turn to look at her. She was standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a tray of food held securely in her hands, “Koizumi-chan,” she smiled kindly, “I apologize, I was unaware you were visiting with Saguru. I’ll fetch you some food as well.”</p><p>	“Thank you, ma’am,” Akako-chan smiled gratefully as Baaya set the tray down before Saguru and rushed back into the kitchen. The meal turned out to be soup, sandwiches, and tea and crumpets; just as he had assured.<br/>
“Saguru-kun,” she caught him off guard again with the first name as he began dishing up his and Baaya’s meals. He had to shift in order to keep his hold on the bowl of soup without it winding up in his lap.</p><p>	“Yes Koi-Akako-chan?” He barely caught himself. There really was no one in Japan he called by their first name. It was strange. </p><p>	“You know you don’t owe me anything for Salem, right?” He frowned, finishing the settings before turning to look at her curiously. Rarely since he had met her had she shown any sort of uncertainty. And yet now he found her holding her lower lip between her perfect white teeth, unable to look him in the eye. </p><p>	“I would like to repay you,” he started cautiously, a subconscious feeling warning him to tread carefully, “Without you that coven would’ve killed me.”</p><p>	“Yes,” it was an exasperated huff, more like the girl he’d come to know these last few months, “but you don’t owe me, owe me. You know that, right?”</p><p>	Somehow his muddled mind managed to piece together what she was saying. Girl’s could be complicated at times, but her concern was understandable. As a witch, her services were usually requested to complete favours, and then her clients would have to do things to repay her. Basically, if Saguru had read her concern right, she didn’t want him to feel obligated to be kind to her. To be her friend.</p><p>	“Of course,” his response had far more confidence than he felt, hoping in his mind that he hadn’t guessed her concerns wrong, and that she was telling the truth about not being able to read minds, “I’d like to thank you, but it’s not like I only want to be around you because of some favor. You are a caring and beautiful young woman, Akako-chan, and I’m honored you would call me your friend.”</p><p>	It must’ve been a good answer because the next thing he knew she was smiling widely as him and watching the kitchen door patiently as she waited for Baaya to return with her food.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Dove</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Kuroba? Or Kaito-kun?” A slight choking noise filtered through the speaker. Whether it was the situation, how he felt, or just everything that had happened in the last few hours, Saguru felt bolder than he had in a while as he received his answer.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
After the meal Akako-chan had taken her leave while Saguru was quickly ordered by his worried sudo-grandmother to lay down for a nap before the heist. Normally Saguru would push past the exhaustion, insist on working, and then pass out after the night was through. It must’ve told her a lot about how bad he expected that night to be that he didn’t argue and instead ascended the steps up to his bedroom without complaint. </p><p>	All the evidence pointed to something big happening at the heist, and he would need all his energy to deal with it. He didn’t actually need to be at the gallery until six-thirty that night. Seeing as it was still only ten in the morning, he had a few hours of sleep awaiting him.
</p><p>******<br/>
That wasn’t his alarm. An annoying buzzing was going off at his ear, pulling him from his content nap and back into the waking world. It was mere reflex that had him hitting the answer button on his phone and answering.</p><p>	“Hello?” His voice was rough with sleep, a yawn tugging at his mouth before he could stop it. The sound elicited an scoff from the other party, irritated in his apparent still-waking state. </p><p>“Don’t tell me you were planning to sleep through the heist,” a familiar and welcome voice asked him, thick in disbelief and something else. Worry?</p><p>	“Kuroba-kun?” He asked, pulling the screen away to double check. Sure enough, his contact screen read ‘Dove’ in big letters.</p><p>	“Expecting someone else?” Kuroba asked and Saguru could hear the annoyance in his voice. He didn’t see what the problem was, seeing as his phone said it was only four-sixteen. His alarm had been set for five. He still had time, and yes, actually, he had been half expecting another person.</p><p>	“Someone else?” He repeated, rolling onto his side to peer out his window, half expecting either the boy himself to be sitting on the sill, or one of his flocks of doves. Neither were there and he naturally found himself teasing the boy right back, as was their normal banter, “Yes actually. Akako-chan was supposed to call.” Not her. But Kuroba didn’t know that and if he guessed correctly...</p><p>	“‘AKAKO-CHAN’?!” Saguru had to hold the phone away from his ear at the screech that nearly rivaled Nakamori-chan’s earlier one. A small victory smile tugged at his lips as he forced himself from his warm and comfortable bed to begin changing, placing Kuroba on speaker as he did so.</p><p>	“Since when do you call her by her first name, Hakubastard?!” Kuroba sounded furious, and worried? Again? Sure, they had something of a truce between them now after what had happened at the last heist, but why did he sound worried every time they talked today? </p><p>	Akako had told him that Kuroba knew about her being a witch. That was likely the reason for his outburst, and he was well aware of the fact that the now friendly witch hadn’t always been that way. Still, why not play a bit more? It was rare for Kuroba to be so emotional.</p><p>	“Why wouldn’t I?” He shot back, searching his drawers for something he hadn’t worn in a while, grateful Baaya had unpacked his bags for him, “Me and her are friends.”</p><p>	The other line went almost completely silent. Saguru would’ve thought Kuroba had hung up on him if it wasn’t for the very quiet chirping of birds in the background. While his classmate digested that bomb, he went back to searching for the outfit he knew would give anyone who saw him in it a heart attack. It had been Akako’s suggestion; that he wear something comfortable for once instead of those stiff suits and button ups. He quite had to agree, and maybe it was because they were officially friends now, but Saguru found himself feeling more open with the witch than before. </p><p>	“Kuroba-kun?” He finally started to feel a twinge of worry at the long-lasting silence he was listening to. His desired clothes in hand, he set about getting dressed as he waited for an answer.</p><p>	“Hakuba-kun,” was what he finally got, a voice stiff and edging on nervousness that immediately tipped Saguru off on what he wanted to say. Sure, Kuroba tolerated Akako, he hung out with her, he even considered her a part of their strange ragtag group. But he never seemed to fully trust the girl. Probably because of whatever misguided schemes she had concocted to try and ‘make KID hers.'

</p><p>	“I don’t want to jump to conclusions,” Kuroba tried, each word carefully chosen though his hesitance was obvious. Saguru couldn’t help but feel warmed by the boy’s attempts to spare his feelings while also ensuring he was okay. Though, he did have to remind himself that Kuroba had no clue about Saguru’s knowledge of the supernatural. He thought, that he thought, that Akako was just a normal, popular, and extremely pretty girl. </p><p>	“Kuroba?” He intercepted his concerns, voice warm with a fondness that he normally wouldn’t let mix in. There was a small intake of breath on the other end of the phone when he dropped the honorifics and it made Saguru smile so wide his cheeks hurt, “Please don’t worry. Akako-chan is honest in our friendship. She’s not using me, manipulating me, or anything else you may think...and I have a question for you.”</p><p>He had tacked on the last bit the second the thought entered my mind. It had his smile dimming down slightly, palms starting to sweat as he considered what he wanted to ask.</p><p>“Shoot, detective,” Kuroba told him, voice carefully restrained to not show overly much emotion. </p><p>“We are friends too, right?” </p><p>“Of course...” His response was immediate but the words trailed off at the end, like Kuroba didn't know what he was dealing with. His voice didn't hold the monotone or fake emotion he normally used with others. The response was immediate, but filled with nervousness and no small amount of uncertainty. Clearly he wasn't anymore used to this sort of thing than Saguru which was comfort beyond words for him. In an instance, Saguru’s grin was back full blast and he couldn’t help the slight huff of a laugh that made it past his lips.</p><p>“What’re you laughing about?!” Kuroba sounded outraged, back to his normal self for a moment. But he reverted back to that quiet thing at the next question.</p><p>“Kuroba? Or Kaito-kun?” A slight choking noise filtered through the speaker. Whether it was the situation, how he felt, or just everything that had happened in the last few hours, Saguru felt bolder than he had in a while as he received his answer. </p><p>	“Kuroba is fine.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>All the characters in MK need more development. Detective Conan has spent twenty years doing the same things, step aside and let my babies shine! Also, I am aware some of the interaction are a bit OOC. Kaito especially, but considering in the anime he is obsessed with his poker face, and he really only considers his doves and Aoko his friends, I thought he might be a little nervous when formally accepting someone into his circle. Akako too, she doesn't seem to know how to work a relationship that is natural and not magic induced.<br/>Does that make sense? I'm sorry if it doesn't, any advice on how to portray underdeveloped characters is welcome!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Allies in White</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Showing off for them? Normally the strange attachment between thief and detectives would throw Saguru through a loop, but after everything they had sorted out together in the last month, it left a different feeling in his chest.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
Saguru checked over his appearance in the mirror, feeling far more comfortable than usual. Forgoing his annoying dressup game was always a great experience. Though usually he could only do it when he was with Ib and Gary, or at home. He’d found the exact outfit he was looking for. Comfortable gray jeans and a white t-shirt. A very special necklace was hanging down from his neck on a silver chain. On the end of the chain was a dangling glass pendant and within; four petals. </p><p>	They were petals from their roses. A red one, a blue one, a yellow one, and a white one. Thanks to the ‘spell’ around the glass, none of them could wilt. It had been a gift to the three of them from Mary. Gary and Ib both kept theirs on them most of the time. Saguru didn’t wear his as often since he didn’t want it being stolen or damaged in any way, but tonight a little extra help couldn’t hurt. </p><p>	He looked like a normal teenager, sure to be a shock to the heist attendees. He could only hope that none of the old timers dropped in their surprise. Honestly, he was starting to get fed up with trying to appear older. Whether someone took him seriously or not, he was skilled and could help. If his appearance factored into their decision to let him, then they were idiots.</p><p>	“Hakuba?” Saguru glanced back to his phone, still feeling really warm from the realization that him and Kuroba were friends. And earlier Akako had said that as well. He’d never really had friends; being a detective and hanging around bodies tended to make people apprehensive. </p><p>	Of course, Akako was a witch who had a deal with the devil, and Kuroba was an international jewel thief, not that he’d ever admit it. So his friends were just as interesting as him. That’s probably why they got on so well.</p><p>“Yes, Kuroba?” He switched from speaker as he picked up his phone again, ear pressed into the screen as he actively chose to focus on the conversation over his wandering thoughts. </p><p>“What happened in class earlier?” And of course that was what he needed to know. Probably what he had called about in the first place, “I saw how you reacted to Aoko saying the name Guertena. Is there something bad about him? Or do you just hate his art?”</p><p>He could never hate the works. But this was good. Kuroba was looking for information to use about tonight’s heist. Saguru might actually have a chance here...</p><p>“Actually, Kuroba, you’re KID’s biggest fan, right?” There was a tenseness in the conversation again, but it was a peace offering. It was how Saguru helped Kuroba without accusing him of being KID, and Kuroba was aware.</p><p>	“You know I am,” the admission was drawn out as though he were bragging, bright and loud, as he so often was, “Actually, Aoko and I will be attending tonight.”</p><p>	...More? Again? Couldn’t he get one break? After his six hour nap, Saguru was able to keep a lid on his frustration at hearing this announcement. Clearly Kuroba was aware something was wrong here, even if he had no knowledge of living artworks. He was trying to give Saguru information without being too obvious.</p><p>	“Well then,” he groaned, eyes flicking up to the ceiling in a silent question of, ‘why?’ as he continued, “We’re going to be quite busy tonight. You’ve heard about the other guests I assume?”</p><p>	“Koizumi-san told me I’d get to see the ‘KID Killer and friends’ tonight,” that’d be a yes, “So I’m sure KID will be extra dashing tonight! All three of his detectives will be watching, after all.”</p><p>	Showing off for them? Normally the strange attachment between thief and detectives would throw Saguru through a loop, but after everything they had sorted out together in the last month, it left a different feeling in his chest.</p><p>“But seriously,” Kuroba shifted gears from excited fan, to showman, to serious so quickly Saguru had to stop and give all his attention just to keep up, “Is something going on tonight? A problem KID might run into?”</p><p>“Maybe...” His classmate, friend, already had so much on his plate. Did he really need ‘artistry coming to life’ added to it? So Saguru went for a neutral nudge.</p><p>	“Do you think KID will keep most of the task force clear of the target?” A little hint, disguised as a question. Kuroba was extremely smart, he had to understand what he meant.</p><p>	“If he wanted to, yeah,” good, that would help, “The irregulars won’t be easy to corral though, even for KID. They’re just too critical.”</p><p>“I assumed as much,” Saguru hummed, lids drifting close in thought, “Give me a little time?” </p><p>Perhaps that was too forward?</p><p>	“You know when the heist starts,” so he wasn’t going to stop him, but once the clock struck seven KID was going to move no matter what.</p><p>	“Alright,” Saguru nodded, plans already drifting across his mind as he thought over his chances, “I’ll try. Just...” What? Be prepared for a reaper to emerge from the canvas and start slicing people to bits?</p><p>	He was saved from trying to finish that warning by the sudden vibration of his phone. Pulling back from his ear, he saw that Kuroba’s name of ‘Dove’ was no longer being displayed. It was a video message from his London family.</p><p>	“Hakuba?” Kuroba sounded concerned at his sudden silence. Things really had changed between them, but his new worried attitude wasn’t too big of a surprise. Kuroba was possessive, and anyone he welcomed close to him immediately had an overprotective friend to rely on. Saguru felt his stomach turn as he realized just how much Kuroba actually cared if he was dropping his ‘poker face’ so often around him.</p><p>“Yeah, sorry,” his phone was still vibrating, “I’m getting another call Kuroba. I’ll see you at the heist tonight, okay?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah,” the abruptness of the goodbye made Saguru feel bad, but he had promised to tell Gary what he found out.</p><p>“Thank you,” for a lot of things, “See you then.”</p><p>“See yo-”</p><p>He really had to work on hanging up on people.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>One thing I've realized since I started writing is that I love long conversations. Sorry, but slow burn seems to be the tune I'm playing to.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Blue Brother</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gary never pointed it out or made fun of his strangeness. Somehow, he was probably the most normal in his family. It brought a small amount of comfort.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
“Garry!" The whine that came from Saguru’s throat when he hit the answer button was mightily embarrassing, but he was in ‘younger brother’ mode now. He needed advice on having people to call friends. The video image showed his older brother was lounging comfortably on that ridiculous sofa of his. Paint splattered all over his clothes with different colors. Even his dyed lavender hair had flecks of yellow and green mixed in. It was an appearance Saguru was used to and he naturally slipped into a more comfortable mind space thanks to the familiarity. He too moved to drape himself over the love seat opposite his bed, giving an exaggerated sigh that prompted Garry to acknowledge him quickly.</p><p>	“Uh, yes?” And the blessed angel that he was, Garry forwent whatever he had called about to listen. Saguru needed to buy him a new paint set, or maybe some canvases, when the chance came up. For now though...</p><p>“I have two friends,” the way his green eyes went wide and his head from side to side as he searched for Ib made Saguru flush. There had probably been a less pathetic way to say that. Sadly, Ib wasn’t with Garry. His internal clock said that it was just about time for school to start there, so Garry’s attention was quickly returned to him. His older brother looked just as embarrassed that his first reaction was to call for Ib and share the 'wonderful' news. Saguru pushed forward with the topic before they could both loose themselves to embarrassment.</p><p>	“Remember when I told you about Akako and Kaito?” English meant he naturally slipped with their first names. It was just easier for Garry and Ib when he spoke about people in Japan. </p><p>	“Yeah,” he confirmed for him, adjusting his position on that bright lipstick sofa as he spoke, “You called them a couple times while you were here.”</p><p>	“Well Akako told me that we were friends,” the way his words sped up when he was excited made Garry smile, but he didn’t bother trying to collect himself as he rushed onward, “And then I just had a call from Kaito, and when I asked, he said we were friends too! Isn’t that-I mean? I don’t know what I mean...”</p><p>	Saguru let out a great rush of air as he calmed down, heat spreading across his face as he realized how not composed he was. Akako was right earlier. He did show his emotions too much when he was running on low energy. Spilled too much as well, it seemed.</p><p>	“That’s good,” Garry drew him back in, picking at the tie his dyed hair was pulled into, “They seem like good people. When you exclude the devil worshipping and criminal acts.” As always he seemed uncomfortable with those topics, but Saguru couldn’t blame him. At least he wasn’t outright forbidding him from calling them ‘friends’. Honestly, being thrown into an abstract, magical world, and forgiving murderous creations tended to make your morality tolerance flexible.</p><p>	“Sorry, I was just...it’s nice,” Saguru finished lamely. He could appear infallible before cameras because it was only a moment. A moment he could control. Long term was a lot harder. Like his classmates getting used to his exhausted phases, and the task force getting used to his ‘street cop’ side. The more people got to know him, the more they realized how disjointed and jumbled he could become. </p><p>	Garry never pointed it out or made fun of his strangeness. Somehow, he was probably the most normal in his family. It brought a small amount of comfort. </p><p>	“So what were you calling for?” Saguru already knew, but it was easier to bring the focus back by having him say so.</p><p>	“Right,” some of his joy seemed to fall away, but Garry kept smiling for his sake as he asked, “What have you found out about the work?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Just a little 'big brother' Gary-ness. Fluff! Fun! But yeah, remember in the anime where sometimes Saguru was the weirdest person around? Maybe he wasn't, it's not like he had much time on there or anything...but! I like to think that Saguru has his own version of the 'poker face'. For attending social gatherings, or being on camera, that sort of thing. But once people get to know him they notice the mask pretty quickly and realize he's just a dork that missed out on a lot of normality in life and can't socialize with kids his age easily.<br/>Please save the characters lost to the void of Detective Conan....</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Disguised by not Disguising</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Usually, Saguru would be swarmed by reporters or angry fans by now. Reporters that wanted him to comment on the heist and fans that wanted him to stop chasing their ‘KID-sama!’ Strangely, as he slipped around the writhing crowd, nobody screamed out upon seeing him.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
Admittedly, Saguru had been less than honest with Gary. He had intended to tell his older brother everything, but over the course of the video call he’d seen the college boy’s mood deteriorate. Saguru knew that look he’d begun to receive. He knew that the older boy’s anxiety had started to spike. It had been an instant decision to hide just how bad the situation seemed. Downplaying the danger was the only comfort he could give so far from London. </p><p>	It left a heavy feeling in his gut as the car got closer to the stage for tonight’s heist. Baaya had finally stopped holding back her worry that had been building over the course of the day. The moment he had left his room, she had asked him to skip tonight’s show. She had practically begged him. It added to that heavy feeling.</p><p>	The sour, hard lemon sweet in his mouth was the only thing bringing him comfort. He was glad Gary had packed them in his bag while he wasn’t looking. They reminded him of family and love. If he and Ib hadn’t been given the candies before escaping the ‘Fabricated World’, they might never have remembered what happened there. </p><p>	A soft jerk as the car stopped brought his attention to the admittedly funny scene outside. The art gallery hosting tonight wasn’t some grand museum or penthouse suite, it was a corner studio. That meant that there were task force members encircling the building, blocking off the street, and keeping the public far out of the way. Some were fumbling and trying to get inside the small door, only to be trampled by a patrol leaving, and then it would repeat. This was probably one of the smaller heist locations he’d been to. </p><p>	“Thank you, Baaya,” he smiled to her, grateful as always when he opened the back door to get out. He felt the candy in his mouth crack as his teeth met it, the soothing sweetness sliding down his throat as he said his farewell, “I’ll call you when the heist concludes. Please be careful driving back.”</p><p>	She’d already expressed her concerns, so she had nothing else to say as he stepped out and closed the door behind him. They had stopped as close to the barricade as possible, task force members forming a line to keep the rabid fans out. </p><p>	Usually, Saguru would be swarmed by reporters or angry fans by now. Reporters that wanted him to comment on the heist and fans that wanted him to stop chasing their ‘KID-sama!’ Strangely, as he slipped around the writhing crowd, nobody screamed out upon seeing him.</p><p>	The reason was discovered as he passed some loud women near the force.</p><p>	“The other’s have already arrived, do you think that London detective will show too? He’s so dreamy, like a prince!” A comparison Saguru was used to. Though, considering he was passing by them close enough to be noticed, they weren’t looking as hard as they could. “Just keep an eye out for a blonde hottie in a suit, girls! We’ll find him!” </p><p>	Oh.</p><p>	Saguru had half forgotten his difference in wardrobe that evening. He was simply more comfortable and that was as far as he’d thought into it. But then again, a lot of his public appearances centered around how he dressed. It was a defining way to pick him out from a crowd...Maybe he should just get rid of his suits all together.</p><p>Needless to say, he was noticed when the chain of armored men shifted to let him pass. He hadn’t missed the looks under their protective glass facemasks either. There may be nearly a hundred people in the task force, but he actually knew a lot of them. And they were at least used to him working with Nakamori-san at heists, so they knew how he usually dressed. </p><p>It was quickly noticed by the hordes pushing behind him as well. His name was suddenly being called in high pitched tones, people screaming in excitement and surprise as they realized who had just walked through their ranks. He didn’t turn to look at them, didn’t give them more than they already had. Instead he continued down the street toward the glass front gallery; wedged between a bakery and theatre. </p><p>	His hand reached into his jean pocket to pull out his watch, clicking the silver horse emblem open with practiced ease to check his punctuality. </p><p>	6:29:46. Right on time.</p><p>	He had clipped the end of his watch’s chain to the belt loop on his jeans, insurance that he didn’t drop it. It was slid back into his pocket just as he reached the waiting guards at the door. Gazes were fixed on him from every angle and he could hear the barrage of camera shutters going off towards him. His own version of a poker face had slammed down the moment he was noticed.</p><p>	Not emotionless, but above it. Calm and cool, fixed on his mission. Even the pain of having his cheeks stretched couldn’t shake him in front of the cameras, and he was quickly ushered in by one of the guards. </p><p>	Fortunately, the glass had been tarped off to hide what was happening inside. The moment that door shut again, he was able to rub at his aching skin and curse a few times about Nakamori-san’s orders to do that. Especially when the inspector was sure to do it a second time when they met. </p><p>	Members of the task force milled about the registry desk, watching the doors and vents carefully. A few nods and turned heads were directed to Saguru as he started deeper into the gallery, but duty kept them mostly focused. It meant he had a straightaway to the painting.</p><p>	Second floor, main display room, was what he was told when he asked for directions. Apparently all the ‘other high schoolers’ were there. Just how could that be so normal for an international jewel thief’s heist? Sometimes it took a lot to shake away the insanity of the situations Saguru found himself in. </p><p>	And so, up a flight of stairs he went. None of the paintings he passed struck him as living works so he largely ignored them. Due to the rectangle shape of the gallery and limited space, it really wasn’t a large building. The works were somewhat crowded together in an awkward way and Saguru couldn’t help but critique in the back of his mind.</p><p>	Between Gary, Ib, and his own business at galleries, he had a lot of experience in such venues. </p><p>	Ahead of him, a large open doorway was blocked off by two rows of guards, but there was no movement beyond them. Inspector Nakamori had said the owner wanted as few guards as possible in the room, but Saguru had never thought that meant none. They were quick to step aside for him. Nodding in acceptance when they saw the red on his abused cheeks.</p><p>	The situation on the other side nearly made him want to smack his head into the nearest wall.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Anyone else remember Saguru basically cosplaying Sherlock Holmes at heists? Don't know why the creators needed to try to be so obvious. Even the suits he wears later are kind of unnecessary. He's just fine in casual. Remember that time KID disguised at him in the tenth movie? That's the closest we've ever seen him to comfy.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Beautiful Red</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>‘Reaper’s Alley’ was caught. And he knew it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
Nakamori-san was seething, and Saguru wanted to join him. Within the room were a total of ten people, including himself. A short, plump man was standing off to the side looking rather pale and Saguru could only assume he was the owner. He wasn’t the problem. </p><p>	The problem was the scolding taking place in the middle of the floor. Kazuha was shaking her finger violently at a familiar tan boy while screaming about ‘treating conan-kun too roughly.’ A small boy was waving his hands frantically at their feet in an attempt to calm them while his companion, a furious Mouri, joined in her friend’s scolding. Sonoko was meanwhile giving the Osakan detective a cover thumbs up for whatever he’d done, and off to the side watching were Saguru’s own classmates. </p><p>	Aoko looked worried about what was happening, while Kuroba, predictably, looked like he wanted popcorn. Surprisingly, Sonoko was the first to notice his presence. Her notice also came with a drawn out whistle and swooning motion.</p><p>	“Oh my,” she gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth dramatically and drawing everyone else’s attention, “My prince looks good in casual!”</p><p>	Saguru was used to her. They were actually first cousins, and for the longest time he had been called ‘her prince’. The thing was, most people didn’t know about their relationship. And so they assumed things. Which was exactly what happened when Mouri-san and Kazuha-san reflexively said, “Makoto-kun?!”</p><p>No, he wasn’t her boyfriend. Both girls immediately recognized their mistake upon actually looking at Saguru. But now, everyone was looking at him. Standing there in jeans and a tee-shirt, silver chain hanging over his pocket and around his neck, mimicking Akako’s pose from earlier in the gallery. One hand over his hip and one eyebrow arched in judgement at the scene he was overseeing. </p><p>Hattori’s quiet, “What the hell,” broke the frozen spell over them all. Nakamori-san quickly abandoned the children to approach Saguru and, exactly as he knew he would, pinch his cheeks hard. As always, the inspector nodded in silent confirmation that he wasn’t disguised. As always, Saguru fixed him with a deadly glare through lidded eyes as he rubbed at his poor stretched skin. </p><p>“Right on time as always,” he stated gruffly. He didn’t actually check the time. He just knew because it was Saguru. His finger rubbed under his nose, catching on his square mustache as he looked the high school detective up and down. He hadn’t forgotten the conversation they’d had over the phone. How serious the blonde had acted. And now he was showing up dressed abnormally. His hand started to reach for his cheek again subconsciously, long learned paranoia nudging him on to check.</p><p>Before the hand could touch skin again, Saguru smacked it lightly away, glaring even harder. “I’ve been checked twice, Nakamori-keibu, try to check me a third time and you’ll lose that hand.” </p><p>	‘Street cop’ Saguru had come out to play. Whoops. He was just so used to being around the task force that his crassness could come into play without even realizing. Yes, he had just threatened the head of the force with amputation. Yes, everyone else in the room had heard and were watching the exchange with wide eyes. How did he always garner that reaction?</p><p>	But there was no reprimand, no scolding for him. Nakamori just nodded his head and stepped back in a silent apology. He knew Saguru hated to be touched more than he needed to be. It was a miracle he’d let someone pinch him twice. A third time and he actually would follow through on his threat should he find a sharp enough object.</p><p>He’d managed to stun their audience into silence a second time as the senior detective motioned to the lone attraction of the room. A large wooden frame on the far wall. A red velvet rope surrounded it, something no other display in the gallery had, preventing anyone from closing the last couple feet to the painting. And it was just as disturbing as the photo.</p><p>The entrance to a black alleyway, no lights, no people, just the man cloaked in black clothes. His eyes were covered by some sort of porcelain mask, a bowler hat over his hair. Red was splattered over the walls and him, dripping from the sharp dagger in his left hand. A cruel smile nearly made his face appear disproportionate with how wide it was, his free hand stretched forward out to Saguru, inviting him to be his next victim.  </p><p>And he was walking forward, skirting around the frozen group of high schoolers and child with a polite nod as he approached the source of his troubles. Heiji was once again muttering under his breath but Saguru paid him no mind. Stopping at the rope, he fixed the work with a scrutinizing gaze. The very same one he used on criminals to either get them to confess, or brag. </p><p>	A voice he didn’t recognize, that of the owner, tried to say something. Stumbling over his words so hard he didn’t make a lick of sense. The way his hand was outstretched toward Saguru and the way he took a step in that direction was enough to piece together what he meant. In response, Saguru fixed him with the same look, stopping him in his tracks.</p><p>	Even if he wasn’t killing people himself, he knew something was wrong with the painting. He knew it was dangerous, and he had let people keep coming to the gallery. Let families and children into the gallery. Every ounce of Saguru’s judgement was behind his eyes, and the owner looked about ready to drop in terror. </p><p>	None of the others were trying to stop him. Not that he checked, but nobody was grabbing him or saying anything so he had to assume they weren’t. Without interference, he turned back to the painting. His eyes scanning every millimeter on display in search of a sign, any sign. Most criminals couldn’t help but react when they knew they were caught.</p><p>	‘Reaper’s Alley’ was caught. And he knew it. </p><p>	As Saguru watched, that demented grin grew just a little further, spreading wider in pride as his outstretched hand moved so the finger was beckoning him foward. ‘Come closer,’ he heard the man say, ‘let me make you beautiful’.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>P.S- I imagine his grin is like Fred's from Courage the Cowardly Dog.<br/>Yes, I don't think Saguru likes being touched, or at least, isn't used to it. Touch-starved but without anyone other than Gary and Ib to be physical with. We're finally getting into it here, hold on for the ride because we're going in!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Blood Well</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Hakuba-niisan,” Edogawa-kun addressed him wearily, eyes filled with something Saguru couldn’t recognize as he questioned, “What’s wrong?”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
“Oi!” It seemed Hattori’s short fuse had been blown, making Saguru turn from the revealed painting to the red-faced detective. </p><p>	“Yes, Hattori-san?” His calmness only seemed to expedite things. He wasn’t actually calm on the inside. His mind was a mess now that he had confirmation. Sure, the Reaper hadn’t acted yet, but it was only a matter of time. Saguru’s poker face shuttered over his face, something he never did at heists anymore, not that most of the visiting high schoolers could recognize the significance of such an action. </p><p>Nakamori-keibu did. His sudden alertness was evidence of such as he cast his gaze around the room searching for any sign of a threat. Out of the corner of his eye Saguru noted Kuroba shifting his center of gravity, preparing for whatever he had noticed. In turn, his childhood friend was quick to take cue from him, growing tense and joining her father in scanning the room. </p><p>	Sonoko was also well aware of the mask he wore whenever faced with such troubles. Her own observation was added to the others as she turned her head one way, then the other. </p><p>	The sharp eyed boy wasn’t exempt either. He didn’t know Saguru, granted, but he did notice the shift in everyone else. His small hand reached up to tug swiftly on the furious older boy’s pant leg, stopping Heiji before he could start whatever long winded complaint he had for the London detective this time.</p><p>	“Hakuba-niisan,” Edogawa-kun addressed him wearily, eyes filled with something Saguru couldn’t recognize as he questioned, “What’s wrong?”</p><p>	“Why do you think anything is wrong, Edogawa-kun?” Out of the corner of his eye he watched the owner that had managed to become even paler in a matter of seconds. The man’s beady eyes were fixed on the painting at Saguru’s back, tremors starting in his hands as he stared. </p><p>	“Because,” the child drew out his words in a pitch that only a little kid could manage, grating on Saguru’s ears with each syllable, “you turned around and everyone started looking for the gun!” </p><p>	That distracted the Osakans and Mouri-san well enough. Instead of focusing on whatever had been about to happen between Saguru and Hattori, they were looking around wearily.</p><p>	“A gun?” Kazuha asked, drawing herself further behind her companion for protection at the mention. </p><p>	“Not 'tually a gun,” Hattori corrected her, observing the other people in the room rather than the room itself, “Ku-Conan-kun means a threat.”</p><p>	“Nooooo,” it was a long drawn out wail that captured everyone’s attention, coming from the shadowed side of the room. The owner dropped to his knees as they watched, clutching his head as though in pain. </p><p>	“Please, no,” he pleaded, nails scratching at his near bare scalp as his head shook side to side, “Please, I did as you said. I did it! I brought them so why?!” </p><p>	“Oi!” Hattori was shouting, taking a step toward the man with hands outstretched as blood began to drip down the man’s temples, “Stop that! What’s 'rong?!”</p><p>	“Tanaka-san!” Nakamori-san shouted in shock, also stepping toward the distressed man. His step made a splash though. It surprised him enough into stopping and looking down at the floor.</p><p>	“What the hell?!” Kuroba’s sudden bark was echoed in everyone else’s minds as they all looked down.</p><p>	“Blood?!” Mouri-san cried out, trying to step out of the red liquid suddenly flowing around their ankles.</p><p>	There was no escape though. Saguru instinctively swung his head toward the door, but it wasn’t there. It was just a flat wall, and the liquid was rising. His second instinct led his gaze to the painting behind him. Just as he’d figured, the picture had changed.</p><p>	The alleyway was running red, a river that the reaper stood in. It flowed beyond the world of the canvas though, washing over the bottom of the frame like a wine waterfall, into their world. No. Not their world. </p><p>	Saguru’s heart sank as he was forced to realize it. It wasn’t his world. It was the world of the painting. He was trapped again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Short, but it has begun! Mwhahahahahaha!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Partially Tragic Story Dump (PTSD)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I know! I know! Let me go! I’d rather die here than let that bastard get his hands on me!!!!”</p><p>	...</p><p>	“Drop him.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
“Damn it!” The shout tore from his lips before he could stop, gaze tearing over the room for any way out. But there wasn’t one. They were trapped in a square room with red rising higher and higher. It wasn’t blood. Rather than smelling iron in the air, he smelled oil paints. It wasn’t much of a comfort though, considering the thick medium was already rising above his ankles. </p><p>	“Conan-kun!” Mouri-san was quick to lift the short boy into the air, who already had paint up to his thighs. </p><p>	“Where’d the door go?!” Aoko’s cry only fanned the panic of the room. Disbelieving shouts filled the air as many of them started to move toward where the door had once been. Nakamori-keibu was trudging toward the owner, however, trying to get the mad man from scratching his own brains out.</p><p>	Saguru didn’t do either, and, surprisingly, neither did Kuroba. Kuroba, instead, ran to Saguru.</p><p>	There was a clear question in those blue orbs that met his. It wasn’t, ‘what’s going on,’ but, ‘what do we do?’ </p><p>	Of course he would turn to Saguru. He had been acting strange, and then this happened? But Kuroba was half right. Saguru was probably the only one of help right now. He’d been through the insanity of Guertena’s Gallery before, even if nobody was aware of that fact. He would have to step up here. </p><p>	But being back in that twisted world as it once was left his mind spinning. One second he was standing in a fast filling room with screaming panic around him, the next he was a little twelve year old being pulled along by Gary down a dark hall with hands coming from the walls. He couldn’t pull out his pocket watch. It would only make him panic more.</p><p>	He knew from experience the hands would be stopped.</p><p>	Half between memories, he found himself reaching out to grasp Kuroba’s hand. The boy seemed startled by the action, but it helped to ground Saguru if only for a moment. He scanned the room again, forcing himself to go slower this time. The scared boy was pushed away and replaced with a teenager that had spent years steeling himself over bodies.</p><p>	The only thing was...</p><p>	The reaper was gone from the painting. The alley was still flowing like a weir but the imposing figure was no longer watching their panic...If it worked like Guertena’s other works...</p><p>	“The painting,” he said out loud. His voice barely audible over the flowing of paint and screaming. By now the red was climbing up the back of his shins; they didn’t have much time. </p><p>	“Kuroba, the painting!” He said louder, shouting this time. Somehow, his impossible idea was understood by the magician and together they were screaming for the other’s attention. </p><p>	Nakamori-san was the first to notice them, looking up from where he was restraining Tanaka-san’s hands. His gaze was sceptical, but he was an officer. He knew how to follow orders in critical situations; no matter how insane they might seem. So he nodded and began wrestling the struggling owner in the direction of the wooden frame. Their only hope. </p><p>	Next Aoko heard their cries. She was quick to start tugging at the other’s arms and shoulders, trying to get them to listen. Thanks to her, they quickly had a full group of six wading through the now knee-high paint toward the portraiture. Because this was oil paint and not liquid though, it was thicker. Meaning it was harder to walk through. </p><p>	It was a blessing the display room was small. Had the work been in some massive museum, they might never have made it. Saguru dragged Kuroba along to the hopeful exit. The firsts to get there and drag aside the velvet fence somehow still standing. </p><p>	Saguru knew he had to test it. The hand not clasping tight to Kuroba’s flew up to his pendant. The fingertips trailed lightly over the glass there as he silently prayed to whoever up there would listen that the Reaper wasn’t waiting just out of the frameview. He sidled up to the side of the painting, and without warning Kuroba, stuck that free hand in just along the rim of the wood.</p><p>	He met no resistance, no canvas, just like-</p><p>	Gary lifting him and Ib up, desperately trying to get them into the painting before the thing chasing them gets too close. Ib’s skirt getting caught on the metal plate, scrambling to free her as the screeching gets louder and louder and louder and loud-</p><p>	Kuroba was shouting something; a hand on his shoulder. Nakamori-san was beside them now with the resisting owner restrained in his arms. The others were just a few feet away, almost there. The floor of paint was getting stronger, now reaching Saguru’s upper thighs. They didn’t have time to hesitate because of the risks. </p><p>	The women and children first. His instincts had him grabbing for Mouri-san, a distant memory informing him of her skills with karate. She was still holding Conan-kun, who he took from her in a rush to hand off to Kuroba.<br/>
</p><p>“What?!” She was confused, starting to reach for the boy again before Saguru caught her wrists. </p><p>	“Mouri-san,” he said hastily, no time to explain slowly to her; nobody else there could defend themselves, “You’re going to go through and you’re going to watch out, okay? There is a murderer there so you need to be prepared to fight. We’ll send Edogawa-kun in after you, okay? Okay?”</p><p>	She needed to understand. Even if he needed to shock it into her. Everything in him screamed that sending in a young girl, defenseless, to face a potential serial killer was insanity, a scream that was amplified by verbal affrontation from the others around them. But he kept his eyes solely on her. The paint was to his hips, they had no more time.</p><p>	Blessedly, she was a police man’s daughter and detective’s companion. She knew how to respond, just like Nakamori-san did; with a sharp nod and determined expression. </p><p>	Saguru could hear the child screaming, the others trying to push at them as he grabbed her waist to hoist her up into the frame through the fall of paint... </p><p>	And suddenly he was in the same position Garry had been in years before.</p><p>	They could see her back to them, hair waving as she quickly checked around wherever she was. And then she was turning back with a grabby motion. </p><p>	Just as he’d said, Saguru snatched the boy back from Kuroba, regretful of the roughness of the action as he tossed Edogawa-kun. Mouri caught him with fumbling ease before turning back to keep watch. </p><p>	And just like that, they began the frantic scramble to get everyone in around the blood red paint. Kazuha was quickly tossed up by Hattori, then Snoko by Saguru. Kuraba climbed through with Aoko in his grasp before Heiji himself was forced through by the two remaining.</p><p>	Still the crazy owner was struggling. Saguru knew, just by looking at them, that Nakamori couldn’t get the man through the painting. The flow of paint had grown more frantic, as though it knew they were close to escaping, and getting the unwilling man through was impossible.</p><p>	“Hey,” he tried, struggling to catch Tanaka-san’s attention as he flailed, “Hey! You’re going to die here if you don’t let us help you!”</p><p>	It was blunt, but the truth. The scary part was when the man responded. </p><p>	“I know! I know! Let me go! I’d rather die here than let that bastard get his hands on me!!!!”</p><p>	...</p><p>	“Drop him.”</p><p>	Nakamori-san looked at Saguru like he was insane. Whatever look he was sporting though, was enough to make the man pause in what he’d been about to say to the teenager.</p><p>	Saguru knew the look on Tanaka’s face. He’d seen it in that small church gallery a few months before. The look of a man set on death over torture. There was no saving him. You can’t save someone-</p><p>	‘Who’s already dead.’ </p><p>	Saguru’s eyes landed on something behind the inspector. A black figure walking calmly through the paint, as though it wasn’t even there.</p><p>	“Nakamori-san!” He shouted, taking a step back toward the painting gate. Shouts from the others coming from within grew duller as the force of the paint grew stronger and louder, “You can’t die here!” He tried, desperately grabbing for anything that would get the man to abandon someone he couldn’t save, “Aoko needs you!”</p><p>	That had an affect. There was a heaviness in the man’s eyes as he dropped Tanaka-san into the paint climbing their chests. He sank beneath the surface, not reappearing in the moments after. They had bigger concerns as Saguru dragged the disheartened man to the painting. The Reaper was closing in; closer, closer, clo-</p><p>	-ouder, louder, louder! A terrible blue skinned monster drew closer to where Gary was trying to free Ib’s hem. It’s body was so large it took up the whole hall. The cloth over it was drawn taut, lumps shifting under as it moved. Stitches all over the body were stretched to their limit. Red dripped over the ground it passed, pieces of flesh and innards falling from the seems. Those big, buggy, bloody eyes were fixed on them. Messy black scribbled hair falling out in clumps as the clawed hands scratched gauges into the floor to drag itself closer. ALmoSt TheRE, alMOsT GoINg tO-</p><p>	Hands were on him and pulling him back. The blade of the cloaked man passing inches from where his throat had been before he was yanked through the flow of paint and the image of the gallery room filling with red was replaced by a brick wall.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>HC in Ib that Mary would stuff her dolls with the other 'friends' of hers that never left the gallery.<br/>Also, even if Saguru and friends forgive and accept the current gallery, that's because it's nice again. They made friends and made it a better place. That isn't to say they forgot or weren't affected by the horrific things there, but that it's different enough now that their PTSD over the experience isn't triggered easily around the works. 'Reaper's Alley' though...Saguru won't escape this shadow gallery without a lot of angst.<br/>HC again that Saguru, because of his dad's work and experience around crime scenes, didn't see bunnies like Ib. He saw the true horrors of the gallery. Worse than Garry and definitely worse than Ib. Ib saw everything relatively tame because of her innocence. Gary saw things bad, but not as bad they could be because he didn't have much experience with horrors in his life. Saguru...worked on murder cases. He saw nightmarish things all the time in day to day life. As such, he saw every little dark bit of the gallery, and to a certain extreme...<br/>...It broke him.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. THROW THEM OUT</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>‘One of these things,’ the high-pitched purr of a voice came from around the next block corner, between them and the door, ‘Is not like the others.’</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
The world above him was pitch black. It wasn’t the sky, wasn’t even an empty void. It was black oil paint. Just like everything else he could see. The tips of city buildings, bricks painted, smeared with oil paints. Even the dim light of a nearby lamppost seemed painted onto its surroundings. </p><p>	“Hakuba-kun?” His eyes drifted, head tilting back to look upside down at the worried girl kneeling behind him. He was lying on his back, chest heaving as his breathing tried to right itself. </p><p>	Bloody hell.</p><p>	He’d had a panic attack.</p><p>	Aoko wasn’t the only one looking down at him in concern. A ring of eyes stared down at him with varying degrees of worry. He felt his skin crawling as his mind registered his vulnerability, and in the next second he was forcing himself to sit up. He palmed his face, relieved that it wasn't tear stained. It hadn’t gotten that far. </p><p>	“Are you okay?” Nakamori-san, the sole adult of their group, was kneeling closest to him. Of course he was. It wasn’t the first time he’d had an attack around the inspector, he knew what to do. His dark eyes were scanning Saguru up and down, assuring himself that the boy was uninjured physically.</p><p>	“I’m fine.” The words were reflex at this point. He was. Fine, that is. The memory had been a bit much is all. One of the closer calls they’d had back then. He was lucky someone noticed and pulled him away before his throat was slit. </p><p>	Nakamori knew to back off at that. It was the same every time. But the others, the others had never seen him like that.</p><p>	“Fine?” Kuroba looked furious. His usually messy hair was somehow messier now. Pressed into awkward clumps, as though he’d been grabbing at it in a panic. His eyes looked wild, bright and fractured as he scanned Saguru as Nakamori had, his voice breathless as he demanded, “You freeze up and just stand there as a murderer walks up to you? I have to pull you into this place to stop you from being killed, and you’re fine?!” </p><p>	So Kuroba had been the one to grab him. Noted. No wonder he was so upset. </p><p>	“Thank you,” was what he went with for starters, “and I’ll try to ensure it won’t happen again.” He couldn’t promise. Not here, not in this situation. Not many things in the real world could trigger him. The few that could he didn’t typically have to deal with...unless he was around museums, galleries, and like venues...usually...</p><p>	But here? This was a panic attack rolled up into a nice ball of PTSD and tied off with nightmare medicine. </p><p>	“You-” Kuroba looked close to strangling him. Luckily, Edogawa was a curious boy and willing to save him with that curiosity.</p><p>	“Hakuba-niisan,” the boy asked quickly, leaning close as he interrupted the combusting magician, “How did you know?”</p><p>	“Know?” The boy was way too sharp for his own good. Not that Saguru had thought he would be able to hide it. Still, sometimes Edogawa made him wonder.</p><p>	“About the painting,” he said in a ‘you know what I meant’ sort of way, reminding Saguru of a teenager more than a child, “You knew what to do! And you seemed to be expecting it from the start! So how did you know?”</p><p>	An explanation was in order, yes, but considering any second a killer could step around the corner, now wasn’t the appropriate time.</p><p>	“I’ll explain,” he promised, pulling himself to his feet before turning to offer a hand to Aoko, “but first we need to get somewhere secure.”</p><p>	She took his offered help, rising to her feet and brushing off her pants. It was that which made Saguru notice. No red.</p><p>	His confusion was noticed, but it was by the most unlikely party.</p><p>	“It disappeared,” Hattori said in a low voice, suddenly pushing his way to stand in front of Saguru. His teal eyes checked Saguru up and down quickly. A rough double check to assure he was fine. Since when did he care? He seemed willing to explain though, so Saguru forwent that question to prompt the answer he wanted, “After you ‘ere pulled through. All of it, just gone. From ‘ur clothes, from the alley.”</p><p>	Sure enough, the fake stones were clean and everyone’s clothes were spotless. As though there hadn’t just been a river of paint flowing past them. Still, stranger things had happened, so Saguru just took a moment to feel grateful they weren’t going to be traveling while covered in dry paint and moved on.</p><p>	It was a small space. The world of ‘Reaper’s Alley’. It seemed to be two city blocks of tall buildings, dim lights, and dark alleyways. Where the world ended was just walls of black oil paint, like the ceiling. Any further setting was barred from them by a wall of residential looking buildings. </p><p>	A part of it reminded Saguru of Mary’s crayon world. It almost seemed like it’s own space, the space of the sketchbook. If a bit darker and less childlike. </p><p>	“Okay,” he glanced back at the group of eight other people he was suddenly in charge of, waiting for him to make a move. Was this how Gary had felt when Ib and him looked to him for answers? He owed him more than some art supplies when they got back. Maybe he would finally be willing to accept that estate he’d offered for his birthday.</p><p>	“Stay close,” was what he decided on, hoping that his experience for the other missing works applied to this one as well, “He’s still around.”</p><p>	It was strange being in a world of oil paint. Like those cartoons he watched as a child, when the hero would be transported to an alternate universe with different graphics. Except he wasn’t a hero and this wasn’t a kids’ cartoon. This was life or death. Exemplified by what had happened to Takano-san. The thought made him wince and covertly glance back at the quiet inspector as they got moving.</p><p>	He looked down trodden. His eyes very nearly fixed on something nobody else could see. Then those eyes would flick to his daughter, Aoko, walking beside the other girls in the center of their group, and his fire would be reignited.</p><p>	They walked down the street. Every one of their eyes fixed on each door and alley they passed while Saguru kept his eyes on the edge of the city line. Ideally, it would be best to get out of the Reaper’s home territory. Every shift in shading had him twisting his head around to check, but it was always nothing.</p><p>	He saw it at the end of the street when they turned around the block corner. A large wooden door against the black wall ahead. Something out of place. Something-</p><p>	‘One of these things,’ the high-pitched purr of a voice came from around the next block corner, between them and the door, ‘Is not like the others.’</p><p>	A head poke around the corner. White porcelain hiding the eyes, black hat hiding the hair. Only one feature to focus on. That cheshire smile stretched so wide his cheeks were somehow pushing outside the face structure. Behind him, Saguru heard several sharp intakes of breath. The whole group was suddenly shifting. Drawing close together and taking up defensive positions.</p><p>	The defiance, the audacity, seemed to only make the Reaper smile wider. Outside of humanly possible. A new image to stalk all their nightmares.<br/>
“Who are you?” Nakamori-san demanded, the tone of an officer interrogating a criminal, “You aren’t working with KID.”</p><p>	Right, the heist. It had nearly slipped Saguru’s mind that that was what had started all of this. His concern had always been the missing work. </p><p>	‘Kid?’ Disturbingly, his mouth didn’t move but they could hear the words. Without a care, the man’s body followed his head out from around the corner. </p><p>	‘Kids aren’t fun,’ he told them. Taking a step forward, then another. ‘They don’t last long. If they aren’t fun then throw them out. Throw them out! THROW THEM OUT!’ </p><p>	His voice rose in volume until his shrill tone was bouncing off the buildings around them, cheeks stretching until they were more than a ruler’s length from where they naturally should be. A shine of metal and suddenly he was slashing the air in front of him in demonstration. </p><p>	‘Slice them to pieces and throw them out,’ his pitchy voice turned to something of a melody as he began to sing the words, one step closer, one step back, ‘No fun, no fun, no fun, why keep them? Finish it quickly so you can spend more time with mum! Finish it quickly so you can spend more time with da! Don’t waste a moment, cut and slice! They have no use, so throw them out! Throw them out! Throw them out!’</p><p>	“Oh god,” he heard one of the girls, Kazuha maybe, gasp. The song was unsettling. Straining their already frayed nerves. </p><p>	“Reaper,” Saguru called, interrupting his performance because otherwise the words were-</p><p>	-’loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he’-</p><p>	His title stopped the man, head tilting to nearly a right angle as he seemed to take in Saguru’s appearance. For a moment he went rigid, umoving, and then he made a noise. Somewhere between a hum and the noise you’d expect from a proud cat when they finally caught the canary. </p><p>	‘Petals.’</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Don't know how to write a Kansai dialect in English? Anyone know how? I'm just cutting words at random.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Silver Flame</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The quiet denial from the Reaper only encouraged Saguru. He knew that it wouldn’t be effective unless they found the ‘Reaper’s Alley’ painting. Hopefully it would at least buy them some time though.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
Instinctively Saguru’s hand reached for his pendant, still sitting against the front of his shirt innocently. The thrum of life met his finger tips. Mary’s gift was active now that he was in the shadow gallery, and the Reaper could sense it.</p><p>	‘Petals,’ he said again in that squeaky voice, ‘Petals, petals, petals!’</p><p>	“Petals?” Mouri-san asked, her eyes on Saguru. He could feel the others’ stares, but, again, now wasn’t the time for explanations.</p><p>	“We need to get through that door,” he said out loud. His voice sounded taut, even to his own ears. Like a string pulled too far and on the brink of snapping. He couldn’t help it though, damn it! Everything was grating on him. Every wall he’d built over the years was being smashed apart by the sledgehammer of this world.</p><p>	He’d handled the other works. Some of them had been hard to deal with, but he’d managed. This? This was the first time since that fateful day of escape that he’d been forced into another world against his will, and Saguru knew his limits.</p><p>	He knew he was going to break. </p><p>	“Great plan, and all,” Hattori snarked beside him, stepping forward, “But how d’ya s’pose we do that?” </p><p>	The Reaper was between them. They didn’t know this world, he did. They were at a great disadvantage. </p><p>	And the others didn’t have their roses yet.</p><p>	“I can take him?” Mouri’s suggestion sounded uncertain. Saguru couldn’t blame her, this world worked differently from theirs. Plus, the Reaper couldn’t be killed or put down for long. It wouldn’t work.</p><p>	“No,” he took a step back, arm outstretched to push the others to do the same, “He can’t be hurt by us.” </p><p>A new idea came to him, remembering a certain object belonging to his older brother. A silver-</p><p>-“Wh-What?! The lights?!” Saguru heard Garry cry in the sudden darkness as he held tight to the bookshelf edge, “I-It’s too dark to see...! I-Ib! Saguru! Are you there?!”</p><p>	“Here!” Saguru called back, free hand swinging through darkness around him searching for the girl that had just been beside him. His fingers found fabric and he heard a scared gasp from the younger child as he pulled her to him, “Ib’s here!”</p><p>	“But, this is a problem...” he heard the elder boy mutter, steps stumbling through the dark somewhere nearby, “Ah, that’s right. I forgot I had a lighter.”</p><p>	Before Garry could act on that idea though, the lights were back and blinding them. When the spots cleared from Saguru’s eyes, they widened as they took in the altered surroundings.</p><p>	HELP.</p><p>	NO.</p><p>	STOP.</p><p>	DON’T.</p><p>	DON’T KILL ME-</p><p>	“Kuroba!” He chanced looking away from the man to fix his attention on the resolute boy at his other side, “You have lighter, right?”</p><p>	‘No.’ </p><p>The quiet denial from the Reaper only encouraged Saguru. He knew that it wouldn’t be effective unless they found the ‘Reaper’s Alley’ painting. Hopefully it would at least buy them some time though. </p><p>	“What do you take me for?” A flash of that crooked smile, a flicker of fractured light in the boy’s eyes. More evidence of the insanity Saguru suspected was hidden beneath those outer walls. The thing that allowed the teenager to leap from buildings and play games with the police. The very thing that had him staying calm in this impossible situation compared to some of the shaking people around them.</p><p>	A second between the end of that sentence and silence, and there was a flicker of light. A silver lighter, so much like Gary’s excluding the clover engravings, cradling a small flame at it’s head. </p><p>	‘NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!’ The wail that tore from the Reaper’s not moving lips was so loud and pitched that Saguru’s hands had to reach for his ears. </p><p>	It was strange to watch the man run from them. His cheeks and smile weren’t the only parts of his body to move against possibility. His lower half was twisting, legs facing backwards in a headstart as he raced back around the corner. His shoulders jumped up, almost to his ears in a way most would assume they were no longer connected to his body. And then he was gone, around the corner and a part of the painted shadows once more.</p><p>	He remembered what happened next. How that fear would turn to anger; would make the work even more furious. They had to go now.</p><p>“The door!” Saguru shouted, legs already moving toward the wooden refuge he prayed he wasn’t mistaken in. Footsteps behind him and he didn’t bother to check if they were all there. His shoulder hit the surface, hand twisting the handle in time, and he was running through into a straight hallway.</p><p>Walls blank as he ran past, door slamming shut behind them and everyone on his heels. His lungs demanded he stop, he breath; running so soon after an attack had them already aching. But he needed to get as far as he could. </p><p>	Another door ahead, the end of the hallway. His hand grasped the handle as he reached it, pushing with more strength than necessary and he was falling through into a square room. His chest hit the floor, lungs screaming for air; another panic attack.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Trauma! Seriously though, most of the characters in the DCMK universe have to either have some level of insanity, PTSD, or other neuroses after everything they've been through.<br/>I also recently learned that while exercise can help with anxiety, it can also induce panic attacks! Therefore, obligatory second attack go!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Choose your Colors!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The thing that captured his gaze, however, was something just beyond Kuroba. A table. On that table, was a vase. </p><p>	Filled with a multicolored array of roses.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
The slam of a second door was distant as Saguru pushed himself to his knees. He was okay. He knew what to do. He knew how to stop. He knew-</p><p>	The lack of oxygen was making him light headed, hands hovering in and out of view made him flinch. Shutting his eyes made it better somewhat. The darkness was neutral. Then his breathing. No one was grabbing him, distracting him, so he just had to focus on deep breathing. Don’t let it speed up. </p><p>	In his mind he thought of that ridiculous sofa. Of Ib and Garry just a few days ago, humoring him as they rewatched ‘The Rings of Akhaten’ for the hundredth time. He heard the ‘long song’ playing through his mind, helping him calm down. </p><p>	Instinctively he reached his hand out, searching for Garry or Ib. A hand clasped his and he squeezed comfortingly. He didn’t want to hurt them.<br/>
Just, breath, Saguru.</p><p>	He wasn’t sure how long it took to steady himself again. His grasp on the hand loosened, but the other person squeezed back. His heavy lids flickered open. A familiar scarred hand was connected to his. He followed the appendage up. Lithe arms, blue tee, and messy brown hair with piercing blue eyes.  </p><p>	“Kuroba.” His tone was flat, too drained for emotion. The name seemed to calm his friend and Saguru saw figures relaxing all around him. For the second time in a matter of minutes, he was surrounded by the group with concerned gazes watching him closely. </p><p>	Hopefully he wouldn’t be triggered again for a while. Otherwise, judging by a couple of those stares, he would definitely be getting bubble wrapped and sent to a shrink. Judging by Kuroba and the Nakamoris’ stares though, that might happen even if he didn’t have another attack. </p><p>	The hand didn’t release his even as he got his feet, legs shaking slightly as they adjusted. He looked around past his audience, taking in the room they had found refuge in. </p><p>	It was a simple square space. The walls and floor were a deep purple, reminiscent of some of the halls from the gallery he knew. On one wall was another door, painted aqua. </p><p>	The thing that captured his gaze, however, was something just beyond Kuroba. A table. On that table, was a vase. </p><p>	Filled with a multicolored array of roses. </p><p>	He pushed through the wall of bodies surrounding him, Kuroba a weight he dragged along to the object of his attention. Tentatively, Saguru reached out, letting his fingers brush the edge of one of the petals. A ridiculous softness met his skin. Vulnerable and fragile in a way most beautiful things were. </p><p>They were real. Not plastic.</p><p>“Pick a rose.” He said. It was a demand. He wouldn’t accept them arguing right now. Not with his mind still piecing itself back to rightness. “And be gentle.”</p><p>The others were confused. For a moment he thought they would start to fight him on it. But then Kuroba, the kind and genius boy, did as he asked. The hand not holding onto Saguru reached out, immediately grasping for a black rose near the center of the bouquet. Pulling it out with practiced hands, cradling it like a baby between his fingertips. </p><p>	Movement as the others approached to do the same. Aoko went next, picking up a pale blue flower that made his heart clench. So close to Gary’s. Her father stepped up, hands hovering before he suddenly snatched from the vase a silver rose. The rough action made Saguru wince, which made the inspector cringe in some form of apology and cradle the flora in his palms. </p><p>	Mouri lifted Edogawa up to pick his. A beautiful wisteria pink. Hers was an orchid fuschia that matched well with the KID Killer’s.</p><p>	Hattori picked teal, like his eyes. Kazuha orange, like the sweater she was wearing. Sonoko yellow, a comparison that actually made sense to Saguru. His cousin could remind him of Mary at times.</p><p>“We picked our flowers, Hakuba-kun,” Aoko said hesitantly, holding hers out to him as proof, “Now will you explain? Aoko is confused.” </p><p>Yes, explanations were in order. But where to begin? </p><p>Saguru looked back at the door they had entered from wearily. What if the Reaper came after them? He glanced down at the heavy wooden table holding the vase. </p><p>Why not?</p><p>“First,” he told her, softening his tone to be as gentle as possible, “We need to move this table in front of that door.”</p><p>Hattori and Nakamori-san huffed, but took up positions on sides of the table. Saguru moved to join them, until he was tugged back by the arm connected to his. Kuroba had his eyebrows raised, giving him a look that clearly read, ‘Seriously? You’re staying put.’ </p><p>“The hell?!” Hattori cursed, straining as he lifted with the inspector, arms shaking with the effort, “This ain’t wood! It’s metal.” </p><p>They made their way to the door slowly, cursing and glaring. Clearly it was very heavy metal.</p><p>Or they were just weak.</p><p>The clanging sound of metal against concrete sounded as they set the structure in front of the door. Hopefully the killer didn’t have super strength too. </p><p>“Now,” Saguru said, bringing everyone back to him, “Where would you like me to start?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And so it continues. Gonna be honest, this is getting darker than my plan was going to be. Please accept the traumatized children, they have nowhere else to go.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Shortened Version</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Wait,” Kazuha held up her hand, voice trembling as she looked over her orange rose in fear and bypassed his grumbling, “What do you mean our life?”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
Leaving it up to them was the only way they would get anywhere. Saguru would have to keep it brief though. Pushing his luck wasn’t something he tried to do often, and his earlier nap energy was running low. He didn’t have any misconceptions about the situation. They would have to find a place to spend the night eventually. </p><p>	“How about,” Sonoko was suddenly in his face, leaning forward and hands on her hips, “how you knew about...all of...this?” </p><p>	“That’s reasonable,” he agreed mildly, trying to piece together a way to give them all the important information without taking too long.</p><p>	“Four years ago,” he started, Sonoko backing off as he did, “I got trapped in another gallery just like this. I went through a lot to escape and when I did, I started to look for more artworks like the ones that trapped me. The ‘Reaper’s Alley’ was one of those works. I came tonight to try and prevent the loss of life. Now I need to get you out of here alive. Any questions?”</p><p>	Stares. Wow, that was happening to him a lot today. He was really off his normal game. Then the hot headed one exploded.</p><p>	“Think ya left a lot out, dontcha?!” Hattori hand clenched around his rose’s stem. Before it could be at risk, Saguru free hand shot out to grip his wrist.</p><p>	“Gentle!” He shouted, watching the hand loosen its death grip with wide eyes. Hattori was frozen in his grasp, looking down at the fellow detective in confusion as he released the Osakan.</p><p>	Then Saguru was being tugged on. Kuroba, still holding his hand, held his own rose aloft as he asked, “Right. What’s with the roses? And why wasn’t there one for you?”</p><p>	“Oh,” he straightened up again, fingers brushing over the black petals held out to him with a care that scared himself, “The roses are you. Your life.”</p><p>	“Wha-”</p><p>	“Don’t ask how it works,” Saguru grumbled, lowering his hand, “I’ve tried to figure it out for years. The best I can guess is that it’s because of that imbecile, Guertena. His work, ‘Embodiment of Spirit’, made it that way. Or maybe the sculpture was based on how it already was in the gallery, I’m not sure.”</p><p>	“Wait,” Kazuha held up her hand, voice trembling as she looked over her orange rose in fear and bypassed his grumbling, “What do you mean our life?”</p><p>	“If the rose loses all its petals, you lose your life,” another lesson taught through shock. Trying to sugarcoat it would lessen the cold truth. They had to protect that flower, or die trying. There was no in between. </p><p>	“And the reason I don’t have one,” he answered Kuroba’s earlier question as a second thought, “is this.”</p><p>	The warm thrum was still there as he held up the pendant around his neck. Inside the four petals still were flush and soft with life. “It’s a gift from one of my siblings. As long as I wear it, it stands in for my rose.”</p><p>	“Hold on, siblings?!” Of course that was what Kuroba focused on. Another thing to list for ‘instances that made him believe Kuroba Kaito had ADHD’. </p><p>	“Another time perhaps, Kuroba?” He seemed irritated to be pushed from the topic, his hand squeezing Saguru’s painfully for a split second.</p><p>	“Okay, any other questions?” </p><p>	“Loads,” Sonoko sighed, turning away from him as she spoke, “but none that can’t be answered once we get out of here. Oh! There's one, how do we get out of here?”</p><p>	At least it was a question he could answer.</p><p>	“We need to find the painting. It brought us into this world, and as the only living work in the gallery it’s our only way out.” And then once they were out, Saguru would be asking for Kuroba’s lighter again. No way was that piece making it out of this alive. </p><p>	“Right then,” he sighed, somehow feeling like a teacher trying to steer his students, “Any other, other questions?”</p><p>	No one spoke up.</p><p>	“Onward then,” he waved his hand tiredly, feeling a pang of regret as the warmth left his grasp and Kuroba released him. He had to restrain the action of reaching back out for him as he took the lead. The group followed him to the aqua door and out of the rose room.</p><p>	Predictably, the otherside was a hall. This one did have frames hanging from the walls. </p><p>	Only frames. Because the pictures within had been sliced to pieces. Bits of canvas and flecks of paint were kicked around by their feet as they walked. Clearly the Reaper had been through here before. </p><p>	Kuroba was back to walking beside Aoko, conversing quietly. Kazuha had her arm wrapped tightly around Heiji’s, eyes lingering just a little too long on each destroyed work they passed. Nakamori-san trailed behind his daughter and sudo-son, watching them like a hawk. And Edogawa-kun was observing everything curiously, Mouri-san holding his hand tight as they walked.</p><p>	Saguru could only hope that this shadow gallery was small, considering it only had a single living work to draw from. He wasn’t sure if he could keep so many people alive this time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Sweet Dreams</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>And there, flat against the side wall, was a door. Yellow flecked paint, red stains. The latter detail had some of them shrinking back. Staring at the smeared prints, Saguru felt exhausted.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>*****<br/>
It felt like the hall went on forever. Saguru wasn’t actually sure how long they had been making their way down the destroyed straightaway. A few times his fingers moved to grasp for his watch and he had to physically stop himself. A broken timepiece would not help the situation. The grumbling behind him had gotten louder and more pronounced over time.</p><p>At least Garry had been dealing with quiet children. Teenagers were a pain. Screw the estate, Saguru was buying him and Ib a country.</p><p>Nakamori-san was quiet at least. At some point he had started walking at Saguru’s side, something he was grateful for. The man was like a father figure to him, or maybe a really close uncle. Having someone he trusted beside him was good for his peace of mind. And at the best time, considering he could see a purple wall getting closer with every step.</p><p>	The destruction stretched, as though the Reaper had gotten tired of his slashing and put less work into each painting’s annihilation. By the time they reached the wall, they had left the mess behind.</p><p>	And there, flat against the side wall, was a door. Yellow flecked paint, red stains. The latter detail had some of them shrinking back. Staring at the smeared prints, Saguru felt exhausted. </p><p>	How many had died? How many had that owner traded for his own life?</p><p>	A sigh broke past his lips, fingers rubbing at his eyes. A heavy hand was planted on his shoulders, the father’s unspoken, ‘okay?’</p><p>	“I’m tired,” Saguru murmured out loud. The quiet whispers around him fell silent. More looks being exchanged among the party. </p><p>	“Saguru,” Sonoko sounded mad. Could he still run in this state? No. Abort. Death approaches.</p><p>	“When was the last time you slept?” And she just had to be aware of his lack of self-care habit. Why was he close to her again? Oh, yeah. Because they were practically raised together. High-class families and all that.</p><p>	“Earlier.” He told her, the yellow door swimming the more he looked at it. When he got tired, or irritated, he could sometimes act like a petulant child. It wasn’t his fault his parents and Gary spoiled him. Buzz off. </p><p>	“How long?” Another hand was on his opposite shoulder. Manicured nails pressing into the white fabric as Sonoko questioned him.</p><p>	“Six hours.”</p><p>	“And how long in the last week?” She knew him too well. He wasn’t going to answer that. His silence was clearly telling though as her tone became concerned, again! He was tired of concern. If they were really worried they would let him sleep!</p><p>	“Oh, Saguru,” why was she slipping into english? His eyes were drifting, body swaying as it started to give under the toll of everything, “Get some sleep.”</p><p>	He didn’t have much of a choice as his legs buckled and arms caught him before he could hit the floor. Darkness enveloped him, and he heard the sound of a door opening...</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yeah so, baby hasn't gotten any sleep recently. He's terrible at taking care of himself without someone reminding him. In England he spent most of his evenings pulling all-nighters to finish up his consulting cases and spend the whole day with family.  Out of the 168 hours in a week, he's probably gotten about 42 hours of sleep. Staying awake on spite and coffee doesn't work for long, so now he's passing out.<br/>Huh, I guess he really is from London then.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Bitter Sweet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Hakuba-niisan,” he murmured through his fingers, head shaking, “Sometimes you sound like a dad.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
“...Ah.” Footsteps, and then fern eyes were level with Saguru’s. “You’re awake. Hey there, easy. How do you feel?”</p><p>	“I’m fine.” Saguru was, honestly. He didn’t understand why adults insisted on asking him that all the time. The way Garry’s face pinched together was a common reaction to the statement, his lips pursed in silent worry. It irritated Saguru. Why didn’t anyone ever believe him? </p><p>	Why didn’t he believe himself?</p><p>	“Okay,” at least Garry didn’t try to get him to say otherwise like some grown ups, “I was really worried. When you and Ib collapsed, it was...you know?” </p><p>	Not really, no. For some reason the expressive man couldn’t always finish his sentences. Like he had so many different things to say but none of them would let the other thing out, and so nothing came out. It frustrated Saguru, but also gave him something to focus on and complain about within the confines of his mind. </p><p>	Speaking of Ib. The small child was curled up on the floor beside Saguru. Both of them had been placed under Garry’s tattered violet coat, like it was a blanket. Her face was smooth, the dark bags that he remembered seeing were lighter now. With the long brown locks cascading around her face and soft expression, she looked like a doll lying there.</p><p>	A heaviness settled in Saguru’s chest. His hand stretched out, brushing at some of her fallen bangs as he looked over the nine year old. She was too young to go through this. </p><p>“...Saguru,” Garry spoke up quietly, watching the interaction between the younger two with pinched eyes, “would you take a look in the pocket of that coat?” </p><p>	It distracted Saguru from Ib, his hand slipping into the pocket settled over his lap to find...</p><p>	Two candies?</p><p>	“You two can each have one,” Garry offered, smiling gently at the woken boy, “It’s lemon flavored. I was using them to help with cigarette cravings, but they’re pretty delicious on their own.”</p><p>	Saguru didn’t eat it right away. Instead he gingerly placed the yellow wrapper inside of his pocket, to save for later. The second piece he set in Ib’s cupped hand, for her to find when she woke up. </p><p>	“Let’s rest here awhile longer,” Garry suggested, getting to his feet and readjusting his green tank top, “we can set out again once she wakes.”</p><p>******<br/>
“...Ah. You’re awake.”</p><p>	That wasn’t Garry’s voice. Saguru’s eyes flickered open, finding a dim, blue ceiling above him. Turning a bit to the side had him meeting a mustached face. </p><p>	“Nakamori-san,” he mumbled, tripping over his words as he started to wake fully. The inspector quickly motioned with his finger, pressing it to his lips in a signal to be quiet. He pointedly turned his head, nodding in indication of something. </p><p>	Saguru tilted his head to follow, temple meeting soft flooring as he took in the view around them. Bodies were slumped into sleeping positions in the room around them. Against the walls, on the floors, even on one another. Saguru was lying flat on his back, near the corner. A jacket was laying over his chest, the same pale blue jean jacket Hattori had been wearing earlier.</p><p>A quick glance confirmed that the boy in question no longer had said article of clothing, curled up around his childhood friend against the far wall.</p><p>	“They all needed sleep,” Nakamori said with a sigh, shaking his head, “You probably need more too.”</p><p>	That wasn’t going to happen. Saguru could already tell how awake he was. However long he had slept, it was enough to fill his emergency energy levels. There would be no more rest for him. </p><p>	“I’m already awake,” he admitted, bringing back the words he’d woken to, “You should get some sleep though. I can keep watch.” </p><p>	He pushed himself up, the jacket slipping into his lap with the motion. Nakamori looked aghast at the idea, head shaking in refusal before Saguru had even finished his sentence. </p><p>	“No, I can still watch,” he argued under his breath, looking around for any stirring bodies, “You should just relax Hakuba-kun. I-”</p><p>	“Nakamori-keibu,” Saguru needed to make sure, “You know you wouldn’t have been able to save Tanaka-san, right?”</p><p>	The way those dark eyes went wide and he suddenly couldn’t meet his eyes said otherwise. </p><p>	“He didn’t want to be saved,” Saguru told him, “The Reaper had been slowly torturing him since he purchased the work. He chose death. If you hadn’t have listened to me, you would’ve been another of his victims. Myself as well, I imagine.”</p><p>	He was silent through his evaluation. As he finished, Nakamori’s shoulders slumped, a sigh escaping the aged man. His hand reached up to fiddle with the loosened tie around his neck, heart heavy with responsibility and truths.</p><p>	“I know. I know that,” he admitted quietly, “But...you get it, don’t you Hakuba-kun? Every life...”</p><p>	Lost was one that weighed on your soul.  Yeah, Saguru understood. He’d been solving crimes for his father since he was five. Sometimes he didn’t solve them fast enough. Sometimes people died. That’s just how it was, but that didn’t stop him from taking on the weight of each death. </p><p>	“Hakuba-kun,” the inspector sighed, “If you ever need someone to talk to, remember my door is always open to you.”</p><p>	Ah, the offer. The one he’d been given after the first attack Nakamori-san witnessed. He hadn’t forgotten, he’d just been too ashamed to take the man up on it. He already had a daughter he hardly had time to spend with. How could Saguru take up more of his time over something that hardly mattered? </p><p>	“I’ll keep it in mind,” Saguru promised hollowly, “Get some sleep Nakamori-san. You’ll need to be well rested to keep up with us young ones.” </p><p>	The barb had no bite, no life. But it was a light. A small jab to lift the spirits.</p><p>	“Bah,” he grumbled as he leaned against the wall by Saguru’s head, eyes slipping shut, “I’m not that old...Ah, this damn thing.” He reached up, already drifting, to fumble his way through removing his already loose tie. The fabric slipped through his fingers to the ground, forgotten as he slipped deeper. </p><p>	It only took a matter of moments for the inspector to fall into unconsciousness. His chest rising and falling to a steady rhythm as Saguru looked over the room now housing a bunch of sleeping bodies.</p><p>	The floor was soft because it was green carpeting. Thick too. With the blue walls and ceiling, there were also flowers painted across the surfaces. Almost like they were in an artificial garden. The yellow door they’d come through was blocked off by a block. Just, a block. Like one of those display pedestals you’d place museum pieces on. </p><p>	Saguru recognized it from the studio gallery. Just like how the destroyed paintings in the previous hall had likely been works from the small gallery. Because there was only the ‘Reaper’s Alley’ to draw on, this shadow gallery was taking from the normal works. Again, Saguru was grateful that it hadn’t been housed in a grand museum. The thought of that struggle made him sigh, gaze dropping to the given clothes it found there. </p><p>He found himself staring at the jacket in his lap for awhile. It was still a mystery why it was there; he could've sworn that Heiji Hattori hated him. But the dream, the memory almost made it feel reminiscent. His hand slid into his jean pocket, the one opposite his watch was in. From it, he pulled the spare lemon candy he'd stored away upon leaving the house. With a small, secretive smile, Saguru slipped it into the jacket's pocket. Before he could marvel at the childish action, a noise pulled him from his thoughts.</p><p>	“Hey,” a soft, nearly inaudible voice called from one of the tangles of limbs a few feet from him, “Help me out here.”</p><p>	He held the jacket tight as he got to his feet, slowly making his way over to the distressed figure. Edogawa was squeezed tightly in his guardian’s embrace. Her chest to be precise. This seemed to be causing him distress, judging by the tomato redness of his face. A reaction that had Saguru crossing his arms in judgement. </p><p>	He couldn’t help it. It was the same reaction Gary had to being the little spoon to Ib. He wasn’t against such relationships, but Edogawa was a six year old sleeping with his sixteen year old sudo-sister. At least Gary had waited until Ib reached twelve to declare his intentions. </p><p>	“Please!” The desperate child hissed, trying to dislodge the protective lock around him. </p><p>	Saguru sighed, kneeling down to gently unwrap the arms from around his back. Loosening her mama bear grasp enough that the small body could slip free. In his place he gave her the wrapped up jacket he’d carried over. She took to the bunched up fabric like it was the very same child, pulling it even closer to her chest with a small mutter of, “Conan-kun?”</p><p>	He fixed that judgemental gaze back on the now-standing boy, crossing his arms again and crooking one of his eyebrows. Akako would be so proud!</p><p>	Said boy shuffled under his gaze, trying to kill the redness baking his cheeks.</p><p>	“Edogawa-kun,” he said quietly, frowning as he thought about how to continue, “I am aware you are more mature for your age than most,” this left the child spluttering as quietly as possible but Saguru plunged forward, “however, such things are meant to be discussed. If that is not possible then you should take steps to prevent these sorts of situations. How would Mouri-san feel should she find out some other way than your own words that you carry a flame for her?”</p><p>	“Oh god,” he moaned, burying his face in his hands as Saguru’s lecture went on. A few bodies shifted around the room and they both fell silent, waiting patiently until the movement stopped and they could continue.</p><p>	“Hakuba-niisan,” he murmured through his fingers, head shaking, “Sometimes you sound like a dad.”</p><p>	That had Saguru raising both eyebrows in judgement, “I have no problem with such a relationship, providing both are of sound mind and have discussed the circumstances extensively...besides, I don’t believe you to be a normal six year old boy, Edogawa-kun.”</p><p>	That had the boy looking up sharply. His eyes behind those square glasses grew dark and serious. Sometimes, Saguru had to question the intelligence of people around him. He saw Edogawa-kun once in a blue moon, and yet he had no doubt there was something that made him different from a normal kid. The way he would shift from child to mature, or even such serious looks as he was currently receiving. </p><p>	All he had meant by that last sentence was that he believed Edogawa to be a very skilled and intelligent child for his age. Yet, again, the boy had reacted in a way that seemed to point to a different meaning.</p><p>	“What do you mean, Hakuba-niisan?” His pitch had gone even higher in his whisper, face suddenly open and innocent as he stared up at the taller companion.</p><p>	Saguru wasn’t in the mood to unravel the mystery that was ‘Edogawa Conan’. He waved his hand in dismissal, a near silent, “never mind,” on his lips as he turned away.</p><p>	“Get some more sleep, Edogawa-kun,” he sighed and made his way over to the wall he’d been called away from, “Hopefully we won’t be stuck here much longer.”</p><p>	The sudden shift in action left the lost boy staring after Saguru’s back as he found a place near Nakamori and locked his eyes on the blocked door.</p><p>	Another mystery for another day.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Parenthood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Hey, Hakuba-san,” he blinked in surprise as Mouri-san sped up to walk beside him, her lilac eyes flicking back to where a certain pint size detective was watching her, “Did you say something to Conan-kun?”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
Everyone was strangely quiet as they awoke one by one. Each would reach for wherever their rose was being kept, eyes wide with panic for a split second before they would come back to themselves. Saguru couldn’t blame them. </p><p>	He was just glad for his pendant. If he had to do as he once did, cling tight to that flower stem and pray none of the grabbing hands got ahold of it, he would be in a much worse state.</p><p>	For now he was leading them out. Not that it meant much to lead them; they had gone in a straight line most of the way. And honestly? Saguru couldn’t see this gallery being very large. Most likely they would get out before they had to sleep again. </p><p>	Hattori had been shocked to find Mouri with his jacket, but upon an explanation from Edogawa he had accepted it. Yet another strange friend dynamic Saguru couldn’t understand.</p><p>	Then, as he watched the others mill around as they woke up, a hand slipped into his.</p><p>	“You’d better warn us if you’re going to pass out again,” Kuroba ordered, watching his best friend hug her father with dim eyes. It hurt, seeing Kuroba like that. Saguru had come to rather like the trickster’s attitude. His spontaneous pranks, biting remarks, and small but genuine smile. None of those were present now. Now, it was just survival.</p><p>	He sent a strong squeeze through his hand, scoffing as he shot back, “It’s not like I do it often.”</p><p>	“Really?” A hint of teeth, a fraction of light returning to those too serious of eyes, “And how many times does this make for me seeing you faint? Five? Six?”</p><p>	“Most of those times were at heists and KID’s fault,” Saguru pointed out, not missing the look he received upon referring to KID as a separate identity. A squeeze was sent back. He allowed himself a small smile.</p><p>	“Ready to get going?” Nakamori-san asked everyone, his tie still missing. Kuroba slipped away as affirmatives were voiced by the others. “Hakuba-kun?” The inspector asked, turning to Saguru.</p><p>	“I got it,” he nodded, already moving toward the unexplored door, “I can’t imagine it taking much longer to find our way out.”</p><p>	“How’s that?” Hattori surprisingly didn’t sound confrontational for once, just genuinely curious.</p><p>	“This gallery is drawing from a single living work,” he’d thought it over and it made sense, “That means it doesn’t have much power to create more space. Our exit is somewhere ahead.”</p><p>	They seemed to accept his reasoning, following him through the door into, oh my, another long hallway. </p><p>	“Hey, Hakuba-san,” he blinked in surprise as Mouri-san sped up to walk beside him, her lilac eyes flicking back to where a certain pint size detective was watching her, “Did you say something to Conan-kun?”</p><p>	“...” Don’t tell him that Edogawa was the type of kid to cause trouble.</p><p>	“Not anything bad,” she gasped suddenly, waving her hand in clarification, “but, you know, it’s just that...”</p><p>	“Is Edogawa-kun okay?” Saguru opted for a more neutral approach to the subject. It seemed to work seeing as she suddenly had a specific topic to answer.</p><p>	“He’s fine, but he’s tenser than yesterday? With everything he’s been through on a daily basis, sometimes when placed in dangerous situations he...well,” her hand slipped up to tuck a loose bang behind her ear, trying to find the right words, “doesn’t seem to take it seriously enough? I mean, yesterday after what happened, he seemed excited over the whole thing? I know he’s a curious boy but...”</p><p>	She seemed to recognize the strangeness of her telling him this, seeing as she was quick to shrug apologetically and move on, “Whatever you said to him made him start taking this seriously. So thank you.”</p><p>	He had to clear up this misunderstanding quickly.</p><p>	“Mouri-san,” he glanced back to check, half amused by the venomous look the boy was shooting at him, “Edogawa-kun is incredibly smart and curious, as you said. He has been through a lot, yes, but I highly doubt it has impacted his ability to treat situations with the proper amount of caution.”</p><p>	“But-” He shook his head, stopping her from speaking as they continued toward the turn in the dark colored hall.</p><p>	“It may seem that way at times, or you may read how he’s acting wrong, but Edogawa-kun is still a child. That’s simply how a child must act to make it through serious situations at times. I said nothing to him so, perhaps he noticed your concern?”</p><p>	“You’re going to be a good father, Hakuba-kun,” heat assaulted Saguru’s face when that comment was thrown at him. The change in honorifics was a shock as well. His startled attitude made her giggle as she slipped back into the pack, leaving him to walk alone. </p><p>	Edogawa was still glaring at him, no doubt trying to discern what they’d been talking about. Saguru really hadn’t said anything to the elementary schooler. At least, nothing to do with taking the situation seriously.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Works of Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He could hardly blame them. He found himself grateful that he had not eaten again before the heist as he took in the Reaper’s ‘beauties.’</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
The next corner brought them before another door. It was really starting to become obvious that this gallery didn’t have much imagination as they stopped in front of it. </p><p>	Saguru’s hand reached out to clasp the knob, and immediately pulled back. The palm of his hand was wet. </p><p>	“Blood?” Sonoko gasped behind him and he could hear the sound of someone being shaken, “That man! That man was here!”</p><p>	“Calm down, Sonoko,” Saguru sighed, regretfully dragging his soaked hand down his pants to clean it, “It’s just more oil paint.”</p><p>	“...oh.” </p><p>	A handkerchief was handed to him by Kazuha which he used to grasp the knob again. Turning it with a rattle, and pulling it back a little. Because he was standing in the way, none of the others could see inside the room before he could. And when he did, he was quick to shut the door again.</p><p>	“What is it?” Edogawa demanded, suddenly grabbing onto the back of his shirt and making Saguru jump.</p><p>	“Please don’t do that Edogawa-kun,” he requested, closing his eyes against the image of what was inside.</p><p>	“Hakuba-kun?” Aoko asked, voice trembling slightly. He looked back at her, the blue rose held carefully in her fist and eyes flicking between him and the door.</p><p>“Just...don’t look if you can help it okay?”</p><p>	‘Why?’ </p><p>	Everyone froze. Eyes growing wide, and several hands flying towards roses. Very slowly, Saguru turned his gaze to the back corner they’d just come around. A corner that now had a bowler hat poked around it. That disturbing smile was still there, but as a frown since he tipped his head nearly upside down as he spoke.</p><p>	‘Why can’t they see my creations?’ He asked again, stepping into the hall with them. They could see the lumps in his neck where the bones had broken so he could twist it. His hat stayed perpetually on despite the positioning.</p><p>	His grin grew, making his frown grow. His voice turned angry, squeakiness dropping into something deeper as he demanded of them, ‘You must see my beauties!’</p><p>	That dagger was back into play, held out in front of him towards them, motioning towards the room, the only way out of the hall.</p><p>	‘You must!’ He repeated, suddenly switching back into a delighted squeak, preparing to lunge, ‘How else will you be able to admire what you will soon become?!’</p><p>	And then he was leaping forward toward them, knife dancing dangerously in their direction. Saguru reacted, grabbing the door and throwing it open.</p><p>	“In!” he barked, snagging Edogawa by the arm to toss forward. The others were shoved in by the ones behind. Barely clearing the spot before a knife shredded through them. </p><p>	He reached out, gripping onto Sonoko’s arm and pulling her through with him. The blade slashed just past her rose, cutting into her bare arm instead and making her cry out. </p><p>	Hands pressed shut the door behind them, a second before the Reaper could follow. Banging started, shaking the door that they were holding shut. Shrill laughter sounded through, high pitched and insane as Saguru gripped Sonoko’s gushing forearm.</p><p>	A few shocked and disgusted cries sounded around him. Someone was retching a few feet away, but he didn’t look at any of that. Sonoko made a horrified noise as she finally caught sight of the room’s displays. </p><p>	“Someone,” he barked, bloody hand motioning for help, “I need something to stop the bleeding!”</p><p>	Fabric was pressed into his hand, a sweatshirt that Edogawa had been wearing. Using the sleeves, he wrapped it tightly over the bleed wound and tied down. Somewhere in the chaos his mind was lost in, he registered that the banging and laughter had stopped but he was busy cutting off her blood flow-</p><p>	-to much blood, they couldn’t! Both of them were lost on what to do as they tried to treat the large gash stretching over Ib’s hip. A claw that had gotten a little to close, that they hadn’t moved fast enough to pull her from. And now all the red was pooling out below her. Mixing into her already colored skirt and clinging to her hair, making it sticky.</p><p>	“Garry,” Saguru couldn’t breath, didn’t know what to do, “Garry, what do we do?!</p><p>	“I don’t-I don’t-”</p><p>	“She’s going to die!” She’s going to-</p><p>	“Saguru,” Sonoko gasped, grabbing his shoulder so hard it made him flinch and reflexively slam his eyes shut, “Saguru, listen! It’s okay! I’m going to be okay! You stopped the bleeding. You did it!”</p><p>	Very gingerly, he let his eyes open. Sea green met his sky blue, both of them breathing hard. </p><p>	“Are you with me?” She asked quietly. He didn’t trust his words so he just nodded, head dropping to rest on her good shoulder.</p><p>	“Okay,” he felt her swallow, voice shaking, “okay, that’s good. That’s good...I’m sorry, but can you, um...”</p><p>	He lifted his back up, taking in her own now shut eyes. Then he looked past her and remembered. Kazuha was on her knees, the one that had been retching earlier. Mouri was cradling Edogawa as she cried, sobs shaking her frame as the boy held her just as tightly back.</p><p>	Aoko had her hands over her eyes as she wailed in Kuroba’s arms. Both supporting one another and trying to pretend they were anywhere but here. Glancing back, Saguru found Hattori and Nakamori. Both pale at the sight before them but bracing the door tightly. </p><p>	He could hardly blame them. He found himself grateful that he had not eaten again before the heist as he took in the Reaper’s ‘beauties.’</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And the creep's back!<br/>I don't know, I just really like long, pointless conversations.<br/>What will these works of art by the reaper be?<br/>I'll dull it down just a bit. Honestly I think I went overboard with the next bit.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Beauties</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They couldn’t stay. Saguru hated having to swallow down his emotions. Having to force others too. But they couldn’t be here. Otherwise, they would join these...these...</p><p>	There wasn’t a word to properly describe what he was seeing.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
The floor was red. Not the floor, but the floor. The actual floor looked like it might have been gray once. Red stained over it and over it and over it. Layer after layer of red. </p><p>	This time it wasn’t oil paint.</p><p>	Mixed in was lumps. Bumps and bits scattered over the disturbing surface. Fleshy bits. Pieces of skin and innards that were enough to make someone sick on their own. Then you see the displays.</p><p>	And you want to gouge your own eyes out.</p><p>	They were bodies. Strung up on near invisible line, like puppets. But, they weren’t whole bodies. The Reaper seemed to like experimenting. A scalped and bloody hat of hair placed on someone it didn’t belong to. A much too muscular arm attached to a far to lithe and bony body.</p><p>	A curved chest that didn’t belong between that head and that bottom. Stitches, big, black, and crisscrossed in a mess of patchwork wherever needed. The mess wasn’t even cleaned off.</p><p>	Pieces of intestines hung half out of slips in the stitching. A part of the bone still poked out of that attached leg. Burst eye yolk still sat dried over her cheeks. Chunks of hair still rested on his shoulders. </p><p>	Saguru couldn’t look anymore. Sometime during his observation of the room, he’d pulled his cousin’s face into his chest protectively. Wet stained the fabric she was pressed against, her shoulders shaking as she wrapped her arms around his waist.</p><p>	They all stayed like that for a while. Him rocking her back and forth as she tried to forget the horrors of the room. Even for someone that had spent years looking at crime scenes, it was something hard to handle.</p><p>	At some point Hattori had abandoned holding the door to comfort Kazuha. They were all a mess. </p><p>	The door.</p><p>	The Reaper.</p><p>	They couldn’t stay. Saguru hated having to swallow down his emotions. Having to force others too. But they couldn’t be here. Otherwise, they would join these...these...</p><p>	There wasn’t a word to properly describe what he was seeing. Even if he looked at one of these peoples’ pictures, he likely wouldn’t be able to tell who they were anymore. Not because they were so horribly disfigured, no. But because they were picked apart and pieced back together with other people.</p><p>	“-go,” he tried to speak, the words getting stuck in his throat at first. He stopped, took a breath, and tried again.</p><p>	“We have to go.”</p><p>	Sonoko was in his arms, she would be the first. He didn’t try to pull her from his chest, but he did pull her to her feet with him. She was still shaking, hardly able to stand on her own.</p><p>	“Nakamori-keibu,” he called numbly, motioning to the others. The door was unblocked, they had to go.</p><p>	Edogawa was moving, trying to nudge Mouri to her feet as fast as he could. Kuroba and Aoko would probably be the hardest. Nakamori had approached the closest which had been Hattori and Kazuha. Saguru didn’t have time to focus on them as he dragged Sonoko over to his classmates.</p><p>	“Kuroba,” his tongue felt like lead in his mouth. The magician-in-training couldn’t even look at him, eyes wide and staring back at the wall with nothing left. It was like he had become soulless. </p><p>	He grabbed at Aoko, tearing her from Kuroba and handing the wailing girls off to one another. Kuroba had gone into shock, something he had to deal with.</p><p> 	Laying him down on the bloody floor was obviously out. He was still breathing, so CPR was unnecessary. There were no injuries...</p><p>	“Kuroba,” he whispered, dropping to his knees so he was eye level with him, “Kuroba, please.”</p><p>	Kuroba hated bodies, hated blood, hated injuries. Nobody got hurt. His unspoken rule. Which meant...</p><p>	Saguru bit into his lower lip hard enough that he could taste iron. So long as they were in this room, there was no chance of Kuroba coming out of it. He reached around him, looping and arm under his and another under his legs. As he stood with him, Kuroba didn't react. His body was suddenly limp; an empty doll in his arms.</p><p>	His brown hair rolled into Saguru’s chest, face buried in the fabric Sonoko has just been crying into. Glancing back, Saguru found the girls being ushered forward by the others. Everyone was supporting someone. Kazuha was in just as bad of shape as Kuroba, eyes wide and unseeing as Hattori carried her on his back. Mouri reached out to help Aoko and Sonoko, assisted by Nakamori. Edogawa was stumbling along on his own as Saguru led them around the edge of the room. All of them avoiding looking at the abominable displays as best they could.</p><p>It was a long trek. Maybe not actually, but it felt like it. Trying not to look at the works and instead just putting a foot in front of the other was hard. </p><p>It was metal that saved them in the dark room. A double set of metal doors on the other end of the stretch; a way out. </p><p>Saguru got closer, almost there. Passing by the last display-</p><p>‘Did you like them?’ A hand reaching around the thing he was trying so hard not to look at. Grabbing past Kuroba, grabbing the glass around his chest.</p><p>Sound exploded from Saguru’s throat, a shout of shock and panic and horror as he felt the chain break and his heart get pulled away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Admittedly, I don't know much about people going into shock. And yes, this will scar the babies for many years.<br/>(I'm sorry!)<br/>Hopefully everyone will make it through alright...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Shards of Hope</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Each gentle caress, each torturous shake or flick, and Saguru was very much twelve years old again.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
There were reactions behind him, but Saguru was solely focused on the monster holding his life in his hands. The Reaper jumped back, stopping in front of the doors to observe his stolen prize with a tilted head. </p><p>	Saguru couldn’t breath. His body suddenly felt too cold as he watched one of the pale hands reach up to flick the glass. A shift in his arms he was too distracted to notice. </p><p>	‘Petals,’ he purred, head tilting back in Saguru’s direction, ‘Mary.’ </p><p>	He was sure his real heart had already stopped. Nobody dared make a move with his pendant at risk. Each gentle caress, each torturous shake or flick, and Saguru was very much twelve years old again. His white rose held teasingly in the pale lady’s hand as she sang-</p><p>	-’loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not,' Sauru didn’t understand. Each time the woman in white picked one of the petals, a pain danced through him so vicious he felt as though his legs would give out. </p><p>	The smile on her face hardly matched the innocent words. It was vicious, jagged with bitterness and anger. The platinum hair falling around her was messy and knotted, dress horribly rumpled and matted. And she kept plucking.</p><p>Three petals left.</p><p>Two.</p><p>One-</p><p>“Stop,” he whimpered, his grip on Kuroba no doubt painful now as he watched the work raise his knife up to the glass casing. </p><p>If the glass was broken-</p><p>“What is this?” He asked, raising the necklace up to get a better look. Garrry and Ib did the same, taking in the beautiful crystal glass and petals safely held within. </p><p>“A gift, silly!” Mary laughed, eyes closing as she tilted her head, “I made them with my friends! As long as you’re wearing them, you won’t need your roses inside the gallery!”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Gary asked, tone doubtful as he glanced at the small ornate piece of jewelry.</p><p>	“I mean it’s a stand in!” She huffed, pouting as they failed to understand, “It is your rose. It’s just easier to carry and harder to hurt!”</p><p>	“Oh,” Ib smiled, cradling the pendant in her small hands sweetly, “Thank you Mary. Now we don’t need to worry about our roses when we come visit everyone.”</p><p>	“Yep!” Then the girl’s eyes turned darker, leaning in close to ensure they were all listening, “But remember. If the pendant is broken and petals destroyed, it’ll be the same as if your whole rose was ruined! It’ll-”</p><p>	‘Mary?’ The Reaper asked again, thankfully pulling back the knife to point it at Saguru. His eyes widened and he nodded, gaze never leaving the glass as he spoke.</p><p>	“I know Mary.”</p><p>	‘Friend?’ He tested, grin growing. Head turning to look back at the small piece in his hand, grin growing. Saguru felt himself choke. The knife was rising again; smile growing to wide, to white, it was-</p><p>	He drove the knife down into his palm, straight towards the petals’ center. Glass shattered, and Saguru broke.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Short, I know. But I really wanted this chapter to end like this!<br/>Find out what happened to Saguru next on: Guertena's Keeper! White Rose Tale!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Red Escape</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The shards of glass falling from his palm. The torn blue petal. Crushed red petal. Shredded yellow.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
Metal flashed, and then the Reaper was stumbling back. A white playing card was embedded in his cheek, oil paint sliding down his face, but Saguru was focused on one thing.</p><p>	The shards of glass falling from his palm. The torn blue petal. Crushed red petal. Shredded yellow.</p><p>	And a whole white petal drifting slowly toward the bloody ground; somehow, impossibly, unharmed. Pain shocked his body. His knees ached as they struck the hard ground. His heart felt like it was beating so fast it had stopped. He couldn’t-he couldn’t-</p><p>	“White-” All he managed to get past his convulsing throat as pain invaded every sense. </p><p>	Kuroba was smart, and so were pretty much all his companions. At his word they were rushing forward, someone's hand winding under his shoulder to yank him back to his feet. He was dragged froward with the rest of them as the Reaper screamed. Their hands flew to ears, trying to block out the horrid sound threatening to immobilize them. From beside him, another playing card was shot forward to cut into his neck. The effect from the hit was lessened now. He barely stumbled under the impact. A second later he was leaning forward, as though he didn't have to cards half embedded in his body, and hefting that metal knife again.</p><p>	His hand moved, slashing out, aiming for that last falling petal. There was a sudden flash of sparks from the ground nearby. A spinning soccer ball emerging out of nowhere to knock the sharp object from his hand. He took another step back, screeching all the while as he grinned.Two more bodies rushed forward. Nakamori and Mouri. Using their hand to hand skills he was suddenly moving back just a bit further. Just enough for them to push open one of the doors to run through. </p><p>	The Reaper wailed again, enough to trip them up as they attempted to block the sound. He felt his shoes crunch on glass, flashes of color as he looked down. Blue, yellow, red, red, red-</p><p>Saguru’s white petal wasn't there; he felt like he could breath again. Someone had saved the last peice.</p><p>	Then something flashed in the darkness behind him as he was dragged through the door frame. The flick of something thin, long, and chasing towards them. Razor wire; puppet string. The same thing holding up those...The Reaper growled, stumbling after them through the door as he screamed.</p><p>	‘YOUCAN’TLEAVE.YOUCAN’TESCAPE.IWILLMAKEYOUBEAUTIFUL!’</p><p>	Another hand was suddenly under his other arm, helping to drag him across the new room a bit faster as the killer advanced behind. The room they found themselves in beyond the door was familiar. Square in shape, with only one thing to catch your eye.</p><p> An old wooden frame on the far wall.</p><p>	Thundering steps followed, the shinking of wire chasing their heels. The others had already reached the exit. Stopped at the painting, looking back, unsure what to do.</p><p>	“Climb through!” Saguru screamed around the block in his throat. They followed his instructions immediately. Bodies began to climb into the frame. Throwing themselves forward into the paint before looking back to watch them scramble closer. They were almost to the frame; the picture different.</p><p>	Instead of the painting of ‘Reaper’s Alley’, it was a painting of the room they’d first come through. The display room. A mirror to where they were now. Their exit. </p><p>	Something sharp and thin wound itself around Saguru’s ankle. Before he could say something or try to shake it off, it pulled tight. He cried out as his leg was dragged out from under him. His other knee struck the ground hard, slipping as force dragged its partner appendage back. The arms holding onto him were the only thing that kept him from being dragged away. The grip on his arms was bruising. He looked up, to the ones struggling to keep hold on him. Two achingly strained faces stared back at him. Sonoko and Kuroba. Both of them were having trouble keeping hold. Sonoko only had one good arm, and Kuroba was no match for the supernatural strength of the Reaper's wire. </p><p>	The heavy steps got even louder, closer. Almost reaching them. He heard the others already inside the painting shouting as they realized they were caught. They were trying to climb back out, but the frame had sealed behind them. They were left banging on an invisible force as they watched the Reaper approach the three left on the ground. His steps slowed; he was certain they couldn't escape. His insane laughter echoed around the chamber. The strings tightened and he was about to lose his foot-</p><p>	Then there was a bright flash of red, and his ankle was suddenly free. Saguru lurked forward as Sonoko and Kuroba's pull met no resistance. He heard her cry out as her arm struck the ground, but neither stopped in their pulling as he was yanked back to his feet again.  His eyes flickered back to find out what had happened.</p><p>He saw the Reaper stumble back, then another blinding flash of red. He had to look back as they dragged him the final stretch to the frame. It was a desperate scramble; his arms to weak to pull himself in. The moment his shoulders were past the invisible wall, he was being enveloped. </p><p>	Hands reached for them, to pull them in, up off the ground and into the painting. Saguru looked back. The last he saw of the gallery world for 'Reaper's Alley', was the man in black writhing as he was consumed by raging red flames. Then his vision swirled in and out of understand as they were transported back to the gallery...</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Escape! Weren't expecting that, huh?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Burning Memories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fire bloomed more beautiful than any rose.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>******<br/>
Saguru was laying on his back, again. The bland concrete ceiling above him was far less appealing than...what? What ceiling was he thinking about? And why had he been irritated about lying down? Although, it was weird he was lying on the floor of the gallery display room. Did KID knock him out again? </p><p>	The last thing he needed was for the list of times he’d passed out in front of that thief to grow.</p><p>	Groaning made him turn his head to the side. He wasn’t the only one lying on the ground. A lot of people he recognized were right there with him. As he watched a group of task force members were suddenly barging in through the door, shouting questions about if KID showing himself early.</p><p>	It hadn’t been KID? What was going on? What happened?</p><p>	He turned his head to the other direction, to the painting. Looking past the red velvet rope, past the wooden frame. Before he could focus on the painting, though, his movement brought a strange clicking sound to Saguru’s attention. His head lifted off the cool ground, eyes flicking down to his chest. The moment he saw the source of the noise, he felt his heart drop.</p><p>	Caught on the neck of his tee-shirt, was a broken silver chain. His hand shot up to grasp at the metal, pulling it from where it had caught to scan at eye level. Then his hand was grasping for something else, brushing over the ground in desperation as he searched. </p><p>His pendant? What happened to his-</p><p>A turret of memories flooded back, locking up his body. He remembered. They had been dragged in the Reaper's world. The realization was to much. His body was suddenly too weak. Just holding his arm up to his chest was enough to make it shake.</p><p>	Letting his head fall back, he turned his gaze back to the other returned souls. Sonoko was closest to him. Many of the guards were crowding her and screaming for paramedics. Her arm was still wrapped in that bloody sweatshirt, his makeshift tourniquet. Through the armored men surrounding her, she found Saguru's eyes. Her sea green ones were suddenly filling with tears. She remembered.</p><p>	The next closest body was Kuroba. He was sitting up, staring at something he held in his palm. Feeling his eyes on him; he turned to look at Saguru. Slowly, gently, he tilted his hand to show what he was looking at. A little white petal. </p><p>	His rose petal. His life.</p><p>	Kuroba looked pale. His eyes were bright and he swallowed thickly as he continued to sweetly hold the small fragment of Saguru’s heart and sort through the rampant memories. </p><p>	The others though. Did any of them remember?</p><p>Aoko, who was watching the commotion around Sonoko with wide eyes, didn't seem to remember. Her brows were pinched together in confusion, lips pressed together she swung her head around looking for answers. For a moment, Saguru thought she would remember upon seeing the blood staining her own shirt, a thing that must've happened when he passed Sonoko to her in the room, but she just seemed confused. The blood meant nothing to her, and she was quick to move on in her search for answers.</p><p>	Hattori was sitting next to Kazuha, patting himself down as though looking for an explanation for the strange situation. His hand slipped into the jacket pocket, pulling out with something in its palm. For a moment he stared, and Saguru remembered the childish action he’d done, half between memory and sleep. Then those teal eyes were looking up to lock with him; wide and aware that things had changed.</p><p>	At his side, Kazuha had no clue what suddenly had stolen her companion’s attention. She wouldn’t remember. Nothing other than the memories had been proof of something occurring, and those had been stolen.</p><p>	Mouri was waking with Edogawa in her lap. Neither of them seemed to understand what was happening, and after watching for a moment Saguru realized they wouldn’t. Just like Kazuha, all they had were their memories.</p><p>	Nakamori was the only one left. He was helped up by some of his men, his hand reaching up to adjust his tie as he asked for a report, and then he froze. His fingers opened and closed a few times, searching for the fabric he knew to be missing. For a moment it looked as though he was about to start yelling that KID had stolen his tie, until his face blanked. He remembered too.</p><p>	“I can make them remember too,” a cascade of auburn hair was suddenly falling around Saguru’s face, and he was staring up into scarlet eyes. “If you want them to.”</p><p>	“Akako-chan,” he breathed in shock. The smell of sugar, spice, and fire wafted from her, surrounding him, and he realized the truth.</p><p>	“You saved us,” he murmured, his weakened hand reaching up to brush her flawless cheek, checking if she was real. Her lips curved into a small smile, color shading her cheeks as she answered.</p><p>	“Did you think a goddess took pity on you?” Despite the teasing, Saguru saw the strain behind her. The way her eyes were a little too bright, her breathing a little too controlled. She was tired. Just like him.</p><p>	“Thank you,” he sighed, hand dropping to his side once again, “Are you okay?”</p><p>	His question seemed to catch her off guard for a moment, and then her smile became even more genuine, “Yes. It’s simply a little extra effort to send magic across realm thresholds. Nothing too extreme for a skilled witch such as myself though.”</p><p>	“You are very talented,” he agreed, eyes fluttering as he struggled to stay awake, “I hate to bother you even further, but would you happen to know of a small spell to get a little bit of energy back? They will have questions, and I will need to do damage control.”</p><p>	“You have pushed your body enough,” she argued, but her finger brushed his lip as he opened his mouth to argue, “but I know it’s something you need to do. You owe me, detective.”</p><p>	“I thought you didn’t want favors,” he murmured, voice growing stronger as a spark seemed to ignite within him.</p><p>	“Not as a witch,” she hummed, eyes fluttering as she smiled down at him, “but as a friend, you owe me.”</p><p>	“Whatever you ask, it’s yours,” he promised, strength returning to his limbs as she pulled back with a quiet acceptance.</p><p>	“I’ll hold you to that. And their memories?” </p><p>	Saguru thought about it. They hadn’t been in the gallery as long as he’d feared they would, but they had still seen far more in the Reaper’s display room than anyone ever needed to. They’d broken down, they’d all broken down. Did they need to be forced to remember that?</p><p>	“No,” he decided, looking over the confused members of their party. </p><p>Aoko, Edogawa, Kazuha, and Muori. </p><p>	None of them needed to remember.</p><p>	“Be careful,” Akako, told him as she got to her feet, “I’ve made certain the guards won’t notice the painting’s fate right away, but you don’t have forever.”</p><p>	Her heels clinked as she walked away, her words reminding Saguru of what he had to finish. </p><p>	“Kuroba,” he called to his pale friend, still staring at the petal in his hand like it was the only thing keeping him sane. For all Saguru knew, it could be. But at his voice, Kuroba looked up, tilting his head in quiet questioning.</p><p>	“Lighter.”</p><p>	And his face split into a smile. It was a little forced, a little broken, but it was honest. Saguru couldn’t help but feel sad by the fractured light in the boy’s eyes. A fracture that had grown a little more, cracked just a tiny bit further thanks to what he saw. </p><p>The white petal was stowed away somewhere safe and a silver lighter took its place. He raised his thumb, and clicked.</p><p>	Fire bloomed more beautiful than any rose.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Would you look at that, the first of this AU's stories is complete. It only took three days! Hahahahah..ha...ha.....ha.<br/>Truth be told I probably won't do such a rabid thing as writing seventy pages of story in three days like this again.<br/>I hoped you all enjoyed it! More will be on the way.<br/>Next I intend to focus on the ones that remember cornering Saguru after the heist.<br/>A few of you might need to double check previous chapters seeing as I had to go back and edit in bits so it made sense who remembered and who didn't.<br/>I'm sorry.<br/>Anyway, suggestions are welcome and I'll see all you dudes,<br/>in the next story!<br/>Bye bye!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>